


The Greatest Distance

by pocket_cheese



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Anxiety, Insomnia, M/M, Medical Jargon, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Seizures, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:58:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocket_cheese/pseuds/pocket_cheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orihara Izaya has always had control over his life, or so he thought.<br/>It's an unwanted lesson when you're pushed to your limits, and you realize that you're not quite as in control as you believed.</p><p>AKA: Shiki and Akabayashi decide that the Informant deserves a test in loyalty when Izaya isn't even sure that he can trust himself anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Darkness Falls

It was getting worse. He could tell it was when he started losing focus in meetings - when his mind drifted into a not-quite-pleasant nothingness as an onslaught of barely skim read messages appeared on his screen, lightning fingertips failing to tap out quick-witted responses to the tune of the life that he loved so much.

It had been weeks now, weeks bleeding into months of restlessly rolling around whilst willing his uncooperative eyelids to stay shut. Three out of seven nights a week he managed to get approximately three broken hours of sleep, whilst the remaining nights were spent wide-eyed and staring into blackness. Checking the time habitually probably didn’t help, what with the way that the piercing glow of his phone illuminating the darkness remained imprinted into his eyelids long after the true source of light had faded - but he lacked the resolve to let the time pass by unmarked during his waking hours.

Sometimes he didn’t bother going to bed at all, convincing himself that he may as well optimize the extra hours and complete his work instead when he was well aware that sleep wouldn’t come. He’d sit at his desk, flicking through other people’s correspondences and searching for patterns in data, even though his eyes were watery and stinging, and everything around him was distorting as though he was seeing the world through bubble wrap. He wouldn’t admit to that, of course, despite the fact that not having clear vision troubled him greatly. After all, Gods _could not_ and _should not_ have any weaknesses. Weakness implied imperfection - and Gods should never allow the imperfection of the world to touch them.

Orihara Izaya knew that he was not perfect, and that he could never attain divine perfection, but that didn’t stop him from projecting a God-like image of himself to others. And, for the most part, he was able to do so successfully, because even if the majority of his acquaintances believed him to be morally corrupt, he was untouchable to consequences that he did not desire. He had never yet been tainted by the havoc that he wreaked, despite being the grand director of most of the sordid chains of events constantly unfurling in Ikebukuro and Shinjuku. He saw no problem in inciting gang wars, nor in bundling confused, quasi-suicidal teenage girls into suitcases after he'd drugged them.

Consequently, most people would think that it served him right if they knew what he was experiencing on a daily basis. Whether or not he _did_ deserve such discomfort was a question that Izaya had never had to ask himself before, and had not stopped asking in the last two and a half months. Sure, he knew that every human suffered at some point in their lives, some for their whole lives, but Izaya was different. He had never made the mistake of letting anybody get close enough to cause him pain, and he wholly believed that people who did deserved their pain for accepting its infliction from an external source. But there was no external source stopping him from sleeping, and he knew that there were no other health problems causing it, which led to the conclusion that his insomnia was caused entirely by himself.

His lips twitched into a small smile when he belatedly realized this. If he himself was the problem, then he could also be the cure.

** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A week later, Izaya had tried all of the self-help available online. He'd stopped taking his two laptops and eight mobile phones into his bedroom, and desisted using them a whole painful hour before making his way into what he now perceived as the chamber of doom (although realistically he knew that he was his own prison, and that his large, luxurious bedroom and expensive king-sized bed had nothing to do with it). He'd tried non-caffeinated hot drinks and warm baths, and had reluctantly rubbed lavender oil all over his pillow (which only resulted in making his eyes even itchier and leaving an odd, greasy feeling on his skin). Heck, he'd even sacrificed his black bedding in favour of a more calming blue colour, because did you know that the colours of a room can unwittingly affect your mood, which in turn affects your sleeping pattern? He had pretty much exhausted all of the potentially influential extraneous variables, and still no sleep came. It had reached the point where he no longer had the energy to feel frustrated, and had instead adopted an apathetic demeanor towards his new and unwanted state of being. Sleepless nights and blurry days had become so normal to him, so routine, that he was beginning to wonder if this whole insomnia thing had ever been a legitimate problem.

After all, in some ways it wasn’t as if this was anything new. He’d lived through varying degrees of sleeplessness for most of his teenage and adult life. It was hard to rest when the endless itch to watch over the city plagued him like ants crawling on his skin. Maybe it would have been better to choose an apartment elsewhere, knowing of his compulsion to watch the streets for all hours, but the fact that this apartment allowed him to do so had magnetized him to it. Even so, foregoing sleep entirely (or even limiting it to the extent that it was now limited) had always been a choice. It took some effort and some high-tech soundproofing to shut himself off from the city’s throb, but he had been able to do it if he so desired. It hadn't been a problem then, but surely it was now? Surely it wasn't normal to feel the way that he did?

Roughly once a fortnight he’d pass out entirely from exhaustion, always in inconvenient locations, like when he awoke in the lukewarm, shallow water of his bathtub with the tap running on his back and his jeans still on after reaching for the shampoo had propelled him into such a state of dizziness his mind had sunk into oblivion.

That had shook him a little, to think that had he landed differently, he could have died a most inelegant death, drowning in three inches of water face down in a bathtub. He imagined that Namie would have found it hilariously ironic - that after all of his dangerous dealings with the yakuza and the strongest man in Ikebukuro, Izaya would die at the hands of a common household object. Every time it happened, he silently thanked God or fate or whatever it was that he didn't believe in that Namie hadn’t found him. She had of course, noticed that there was something going on. It was hard not to when her motor mouthed, patronizing boss became unusually irritable and began to alternate between caffeine-induced bouts of restless energy and almost catatonic stasis. It was during those periods of silence that Izaya seemed to lose track of time completely, looking genuinely surprised when Namie announced her departure for the day.

No, it wasn't right if he couldn’t orchestrate his puppets - when he was losing track of what time it was, what day it was - when his whole existence was being negated by everything blending into a never-ending amalgam of _notbeingabletosleep._

There were a lot of things that Orihara Izaya understood, and understood well. And this was not one of them.

** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * **

Finally, he swallowed his pride and went to see Shinra. So much for autonomy. He’d already tried the dark web, but had only managed to find sleeping pills that resulted in erm, permanent sleep.

“What? No, Orihara-kun, I can’t give you sleeping pills just like that!”

“Why not?”

“For a start, I don’t know what poor soul you’re going to use them on! I refuse to be a part of whatever you're planning this time, Orihara-kun. Besides, it would compromise my integrity as a doctor to give tablets that can knock a person out to somebody like you.”

Izaya gritted his teeth and fought back the temptation to knock Shinra out himself and just take what he needed from the cupboards.

“The only person they’ll be knocking out is me, Shinra.”

“Hmmph.” Shinra looked Izaya up and down, unconvinced.

“Well I have to say, you do look a bit peakier than usual, but even if they are for you, there are certain steps I have to take before I can dispense medication."

"Like what?"

"Like you keeping a sleeping diary. You have to do that first so that I can assess the situation properly. I can’t just give you tablets because you haven't slept well for a few nights, Orihara-kun.”

Izaya's irritation was roiling within now, spreading an unfamiliar warmth throughout his body.

“Ahh, but you see, Shinra, it hasn’t just been a few nights. It’s been over a month.”

He directed his most piercing gaze at Shinra, feeling increasingly hopeless when he knew the Shinra wouldn't budge, and seriously considering hitting his head against a wall if it turned his mind off for a while.

“Well, like I say, go home and keep a sleep diary for another two weeks, and I’ll see what I can do for you.” Shinra smiled and watched Izaya expectantly, clearly waiting for him to leave, but persistent as he was when he didn't get his own way, Izaya continued the conversation.

Orihara Izaya never lost his cool, but it seemed that there was a first time for everything.

"You know Shinra, unlike you and your perverse fixation with that headless monster of a girlfriend, some of us actually want to pay attention to the world around us - so why can't you do just that for once, listen to what I'm saying and _give me the goddamned pills_?!"

There was silence for a moment whilst Izaya stood facing Shrina, red eyes shooting a death-glare as strong as a laser beam and nails digging into his palms before Shinra's look of distaste transformed into a sly grin.

"Ah, I never took you for being much of a hypocrite, Orihara-kun, but perhaps I was wrong. After all, I'm not the only one with a 'monster' fixation now, am I?" His voice took on a patronizing tone for the latter part of the sentence, and Izaya was overcome with a blistering urge to wring Shinra's scrawny neck. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, counting back from 10 and trying to regain any sense of himself before replying in the most disinterested tone that he could produce with his irritation still festering, all the while kicking himself for stepping into such an obvious trap.

"If by fixation you mean a passionate enthusiasm for executing his demise, then I suppose you aren't wrong." The two men regarded each other for a few seconds, before Shinra sighed and continued.

 

"It's not like you to snap like that, Orihara-kun. If you're having trouble sleeping, why don't you try some basic sleep hygiene?"

Izaya scowled.

"I'll have you know that my sleeping quarters are in a state of impeccable hygiene, as am I."

Shinra laughed lightly.

"No, it's stuff like having a hot drink, a bath, not doing work in the same room that you sleep in, not having..."

"Yes, yes, I've done all of that already". Izaya cut in, turning away from Shinra slightly to look out of the window.

"Hmmm. Well if you will, go home and keep the sleep diary. Record what time you go to bed and estimate the time that you fell asleep, as well as each time you wake up. Then I can decide on the appropriate course of action. Have you considered that it might be caused by something like anxiety, Orihara-kun?"

"I have considered all avenues, Shinra, but I'm not anxious."

Izaya made his way to the door quietly, and was halfway out of it when Shinra called out to him.

"Oh, and Orihara-kun - if you ever speak about Celty like that again, don't expect to come back."


	2. Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting with Shiki was the last thing that Izaya wanted to do after seeing Shinra...
> 
> [I suck at chapter summaries]

A distinct chill had settled in the air by the time Izaya left Shinra’s, and it was raining heavily. This, however, did nothing to diminish the chaos of Ikebukuro’s streets. The human sea was as constant as ever, if not more turbulent as stony faced commuters fought to open their umbrellas against the tide of impatient flâneurs fighting towards shelter. Whereas most citizens of Tokyo saw rain as a necessary inconvenience, it was Izaya’s favourite weather, and ironically one of the best times to observe people. It was easy to spend longer examining individuals when they were distracted by rainfall and the agitated crowds. Looking on the streets from above with the wind around him made Izaya feel positively godlike, the image of the people below holding umbrellas above their heads reminiscent of ants carrying leaves. There was truly nothing better than practising his favourite hobby to the heightened scent of cherry blossoms mingling with raindrops. The city seemed so much more vivid, his senses sharper to the aroma of food wafting from restaurants, smoke from exhaust pipes, people’s misery…but he couldn’t savour it, not today. Not when every miserable face he saw reflected his own. Today he’d never felt more human, and it both panicked and disgusted him.   
  
The Awakusu-kai’s office was only two blocks away from Izaya’s current location, and he found himself slowing down unnecessarily, feeling the cold of the rain seeping through his clothing as he attempted to prolong the journey. A meeting with Shiki Haruya was about as appealing to Izaya as having a fight with Shizu-chan, which came number one on his list of the-most-unappealing-things-that-could-possibly-happen-this-afternoon. It’d been two and a half weeks since Izaya had last seen Shizuo, which was an awfully long time considering they usually fought three or four times a week. Even on the days where Izaya didn’t see Shizuo, he still found himself thinking about him, whether this thought was facilitated by examining the chronically unhealthy state of Shizuo’s bank balance or by reading Kasuka’s personal email. Izaya knew that Shizuo didn’t own a laptop - probably for fear of breaking it with his uncontrollable rage - but keeping an eye on Kasuka’s schedule gave him an idea of Shizuo’s whereabouts. Shizuo gravitated towards wherever Kasuka was filming, despite the fact that Kasuka's itinerary was too packed for more than a fifteen minute lunch break, let alone for a coffee (or milkshake) with his troublesome older brother.

 

Izaya knew that he spent more time trifling through Shizuo's online affairs than was healthy, however, this activity wasn’t limited to Shizuo and Kasuka. Sometimes he hacked his sisters' private chat room messages too. He wasn’t sure why he did it, and had never thought it important to until Namie caught him in the act.

 

_“Hahaha! I can’t believe it!” Namie clutched her chest, tears welling in her eyes as she leant over the back of Izaya’s desk chair. “You’re actually lonely enough to hack your own sisters’ email accounts!”_

 

_Izaya’s face went completely blank for a fraction of a second before dark amusement took control of his features, russet eyes and white teeth glinting dangerously as he fixed Namie with the type of smile that one might expect to see at the Oscars, when a musician had lost to another and was forced to publicly congratulate them._

 

 _“And I can’t believe that my incredibly adept secretary would make such a ridiculous assumption! Well, I suppose that’s why information retrieval is_ my _career and not yours.” He flapped his hand carelessly, as though dismissing Namie's 'joke', but the edge of bitterness showing through his mask said otherwise._

 

_"Hacking accounts is necessary to obtain information, Namie, whether or not the accounts belong to family members. Loneliness has nothing to do with information”._

 

_Namie rolled her eyes and grinned sadistically. “It does if it’s about hotpot parties.”_

 

_Izaya smirked. It was so cute that Namie still thought that she could get to him. I mean, really, who would want to eat hotpot in the company of monsters, high school kids and an illegal doctor anyway?_

_He began to scan the screen, reasoning with himself that he needed to see if the twins were in any trouble that could impact him. He knew that they were mingling with Aoba, and that Aoba’s position in the Blue Squares could affect the twin’s safety if they weren’t careful. While Izaya was all for manipulating gangs, he didn’t want to be held responsible for any damage inadvertently caused to his sisters by him pulling the strings._

 

_[[Kyo]] Aoba asked me about Iza-nii in Biology class today._

_{{San}} Oooh? Did you say anything to him?_

_{{San}} What was he asking?_

  
_[[Kyo]] He was asking if I knew anything about Iza-nii’s connection to Ryuugamine Mikado, but I don’t know who he is, so I said no._

_{{San}} Iza-nii knows so many people!!_

_{{San}} But he hasn’t been around for a while… we haven’t seen him for a month, right?_

  
_[[Kyo]] I think it’s been that long. Shizuo-san said that he hasn’t seen him around much lately either._

_{{San}} Haha, and we know he never passes on the opportunity to see Shizuo-san ;)_

_[[Kyo]] ...Do you think he’s okay? Maybe he’s sick._

_{{San}} I hope so! Then we can bring his dead body to Shizuo-san and meet Hanejima Yuuhei :D Shizuo-san would be so happy he’d let us meet with Yuuhei-chan as much as we wanted!_

 

_Izaya read the words a few times before slamming his screen shut with a bitter laugh. He laughed and laughed all the way to his room, his eyes tearing up he was laughing so hard._

_[[Kyo]] Yes...but still, something isn’t right._

_[[Kyo]] I’m worried._  
  
Izaya shook his head, struggling to wipe the memory from his mind. He was glad that there were no lamp posts around, or he might have become as bestial as Shizuo and started taking his anger out on an inanimate object.

 

He’d arrived at the Awakusu-kai base on autopilot. After announcing his arrival over the intercom, he was ushered through the main office door to a black leather sofa in a highly polished room by two security guards. Shiki was already sat on the sofa opposite with a pot of tea, waiting. Security guard one made to take Izaya’s coat, but Izaya immediately raised a hand to say no. The wet fur brushing against his neck wasn’t a particularly pleasant feeling, but he didn’t like the thought of being one pocket knife down - and attempting to extract it from his coat whilst handing it to the guard would be too risky an endeavour.

 

“Informant-san, how nice of you to join us.” Shiki gestured towards one of the security guards, who immediately left the room in search of a towel for Izaya’s hair.

 

“Apologies for my late arrival, Shiki-san. What can I do for you today?” Izaya took a seat on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other and resting his hands on his lap in a dignified position indicative of calm and control - the complete contrary to the raging thoughts in the periphery of his mind.

 

“I do not condone lateness, Informant-san. I don’t expect it to happen again.”

 

“Of course not, Shiki-san.”

 

Shiki nodded curtly, taking the towel from the security guard and handing it to Izaya.

 

“Why don’t you let Hyuuga-san here take your coat, Informant-san? You’re getting the couch wet.”

  
“Well, if I must be honest, I’m a little chilly.”

 

Izaya smiled lightly, pulling his coat more tightly around himself as if to emphasize his point. Shiki’s eyes glittered as they met Izaya’s dead on. An analytical person by nature, Shiki was similarly talented at observing human behaviour and using it to his own benefit. He knew where to put his knife, and where to dig it in. Perhaps this was the reason that Izaya had been so drawn to him in his younger days. There was no denying that Izaya had learnt a lot from Shiki, or that his behaviour had been influenced by Shiki’s - but whilst Shiki took a quiet, collected interest in things, Izaya’s was fervid and dangerously excessive. It was this fixational, intense aspect of his personality that made Orihara Izaya stand apart from others - for he was willing to endanger both himself and others to indulge in his objects of obsession.

 

There were lots of things in and about Orihara Izaya’s life that ‘normal’ people would find shocking. Not only shocking, but unconventional enough to leave them horrified, disturbed and terror stricken. The alive but preserved head concealed on his bookshelf would be one of them, as would the fact that the head belonged to the ‘girlfriend’ of his unwitting best friend. His rather impressive collection of meticulously polished knives, and a thick book on psychological torture methods nestled in the same drawer were also symptomatic of his moral deviance. Izaya was also the only person in Ikebukuro who, instead of avoiding Heiwajima Shizuo as if his life depended on it, actively sought him out, which - due to the elevated prognosis of mortal danger - spurred him to carry four pocket knives with him at all times.

 

“Hmpfh! I knew that you were obsessed with knives, but is your bond with them really that impenetrable?”

The security guards immediately looked on edge, clearly alarmed that their body search had not yielded any weapons (even if the individual that they were searching was Orihara Izaya), but Shiki only signalled for them to move closer to the door. The guards acquiesced, and from Izaya’s position, you couldn’t see their location unless you turned your body around completely.

 

“Well then Informant-san, where was I?”

 

Shiki frowned, clearly distracted by Izaya’s bedraggled appearance.

 

“You can take your coat off and put it on the sofa beside you if you prefer - wearing it when it’s that damp can’t be comfortable.”

  
Izaya sighed, seeing that Shiki was going to keep pestering about it, and lacking the energy to argue with him every time. He slid the coat off his shoulders and placed it neatly on the seat beside him, moving forwards slightly to do so, and not resuming his previous position until he realized that he looked as though he was about to take off any second. His expression did not falter as he settled back, watching with disinterest as Shiki’s eyes roved over his body, drinking in his slight shoulders and pronounced clavicles.

 

“I should have known that your request had nothing to do with my comfort.”

 

Shiki ignored him, taking a sip of his tea leisurely.

 

“You’ve lost weight, Informant-san. I hope you’ve been looking after yourself properly?”

 

Izaya snorted. “I’m as healthy as ever, Shiki-san, now can we please get to the topic in hand?”

 

“As you wish. Well then, there’s a particular case that I would like to assign to you today. It seems that there have been disappearances of several high-school girls from around the area, and other girls of a similar age who are outside of the education system. We suspect that their disappearances are related to the reformation of a, shall we say, ‘exclusive’ club called Amphisbaena.”

 

“Amphisbaena?” Izaya knew the name of course, having founded the group himself, but he refused to reveal his association.

 

“Have you heard of it before?”

 

“I think I have - correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t they the gambling group that became quite prominent years ago?”

 

“Hmm, I believe so. However, from the information that we have, the gambling aspect is now just a guise. We have reason to believe that the group are involved in human trafficking, and that the missing girls are being sexually exploited for commercial gain. In short, that they have been forced into prostitution by Amphisbaena. Your task is to find out the truth, and report back in no more than a week.”

 

“Understood.” Izaya stood up and turned to leave, but Shiki’s voice stopped him.

 

“Ah, Informant-san, do you know anything about the leaders or leader of Amphisbaena from when they initially rose to prominence?” Shiki paused, standing and moving closer towards Izaya.

 

“Rumour has it that it was formed by a middle-schooler at Raijin Academy. Interestingly, at about the time that you were in middle-school.”

 

Izaya swallowed carefully, turning to face Shiki-san again.

 

“I don’t know anything about it.”

 

“Hmm, but you do know, Informant-san, that if you aren’t careful, some of the things that you get yourself involved in might come back to bite you.” Shiki’s hand closed around Izaya’s shoulder, detaining him there awkwardly. He brought his lips closer to Izaya’s ear, his hot breath brushing over it as he whispered: “Why don’t you stay here for the night? You haven’t for a while…”

 

Izaya pulled away from Shiki and collected his coat, smiling as he left.   
  


“For exactly the reason that you just gave, Shiki-san.”

 

                                                       ****************

[You look pleased with yourself, Shinra.]

"Ahh, Celty, my darling! I _am_ pleased with myself, and even more pleased now that you're home!!" Shinra rushed to embrace Celty, grinning with the sort of manic euphoria that would make people think he'd been consuming large amounts of his own morphine.

[What happened?]

"Nothing much, Orihara-kun just came over to ask for some sleeping medication, and I got one-up on him for once."

[That's unusual...]

"Celty!" Shinra whined, pulling at her arms "That's so mean!"

[I just saw him myself now. He didn't even notice me.]

"Huh? Orihara-kun didn't notice the Black Rider?! Well, I guess it's less work for you."

[He didn't look so good. You said he came for sleeping pills?]

"Yeah, but I didn't give them to him - who knows what he's going to do with them!"

[He hasn't been in Ikebukuro for a while. Maybe there really is something wrong with him?]

"Hmpfh. Well, it's been a lot more peaceful without him - and I haven't had to patch him or Shizuo up every few days."

[Did you ask him why he hasn't been here?]

"No, and he probably wouldn't tell the truth anyway. I couldn't have got anything out of him, he was only focused on getting those tablets."

[I think there really is something wrong...maybe you've been a little harsh on him?]

 

                                                                                                                                                           ****************

{{San}} Maybe you're right...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kyo = Kururi  
> *San = Mairu
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my darling Jackfruit. I put a word in this chapter especially for you, I really hope that you can spot it ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys! I'm enjoying writing this, but I have to let you know that I am quite a slow writer - the type where I write one sentence on googledocs, put a comment next to it saying 'this fucking convoluted shit sucks' and then delete it haha. 
> 
> Anyway, if you spot any spelling mistakes please let me know! Thanks again, also I am bad at writing chapter titles and summaries. This one is taken from a song by Imperative Reaction.


	3. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akabayashi and Shiki decide that the informant needs to be watched more closely. [A terrible chapter summary, as always].

A soft, repetitive tapping sound resounded through the heavily marbled vestibule of the Awakusu-kai’s Ikebukuro headquarters. It was the type of sound that, once one had detected it, was all that one could focus on - like the unbearable ticking of a clock or the insistent dripping of a tap. If it weren’t for Akabayashi Mizuki’s privileged position as an Awakusu-kai executive, the security guards would have firmly requested that he stop rapping his cane against the floor by now; but, as it was, his reputation as the ‘Red Devil’ made them reluctant to even make eye contact with him. Akabayashi didn't particularly mind waiting, but he didn't like waiting in silence.

 

There were two doors to the penthouse - one leading to the corridor containing the executives’ own, relatively small office cubicles, and the other leading to the main office area. If he so pleased, Akabayashi could enter instead of waiting, but he refrained from doing so out of respect for his partner. He knew from experience that Shiki did not appreciate intrusion of any kind once one of his meetings had started; especially not when it involved the Informant. The pair had a mutual understanding that they were to discuss whom they would be meeting with prior to these engagements, but Shiki’s meetings with Izaya were exempt from this protocol.

 

The very fact that Shiki was in a meeting right now proved that he was speaking to the Informant. As if on cue, the door was flung open suddenly and Orihara Izaya sped out, his facial muscles set in a taut grimace until he noticed Akabayashi. He slowed down, inclining his head politely with an incredibly false smile before scuttling away at top speed. Like an insect, Akabayashi thought. There was something intriguing in witnessing the one who watched - who also never shut up - completely silent for once. So intriguing in fact, that the beat of metal hitting marble was momentarily broken, before it resumed at double the speed. A soft smirk gradually spread across Akabayashi’s features. The Informant seemed strangely exposed without his cocky remarks and stinging rejoinders, and Akabayashi was looking forward to discovering what had carved craters in the image of one so obsessed with preserving an untouchable exterior.

 

Akabayashi strolled towards the open door, and the security guards, who had moved to block it, parted like the waves for Moses, bowing deeply as he entered. He nodded to them shortly before closing the door, leaving himself and Shiki alone in the office.

 

“Akabayashi-san. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting for so long.”

 

The scent of whisky permeated the air as Shiki uncapped a bottle, decanting the amber liquid generously into two crystal glasses. He handed one to Akabayashi before moving towards the window, his gait lacking none of its usual grace, yet somehow troubled. Likewise to Shiki, Akabayashi was both perceptive and analytical, and as such he didn’t need to be told that Shiki was watching Orihara walking down the street to know that that was what Shiki was doing, nor did he need to be notified that something about the meeting with the Informant had unsettled his partner.

 

“I asked him to research Amphisbaena.”

 

Akabayashi knew that Shiki and Orihara occasionally fucked, and that the other executive had a strong sense of possessiveness over the Informant. He also knew that despite being colleagues, Shiki trusted him as much as Orihara…  
  


“He feigned ignorance regarding its origins, despite being the group’s founding member. I don’t trust him…”

 

...which wasn’t at all.  
  


“...I don’t trust him at all. He didn’t attempt to hide his lies today, and that’s no challenge for me.” Shiki laughed humorlessly. “Of course, I can see right through him anyway - but it’s an insult to my intelligence when he lies to my face with that expression.” He paused, watching Izaya disappear into the rain with no umbrella and his hood left down. “There must be a cause for him to be driven to such a degree of distraction as this.”

 

Noting that Orihara was no longer visible, Akabayashi moved to the sofa, sipping whisky as he seated himself on the sumptuous leather.

 

“Perhaps you should dispatch of him. A distracted informant could be dangerous to us.”

 

Shiki frowned, clearly displeased. “Eliminating Orihara-kun won’t be necessary. I do, however, intend to eliminate whatever is causing this lack of vigilance.”

 

“Of course. There are other ways of dealing with him without killing him. My mistake, Shiki-san.” Akabayashi’s smirk spread even wider. He knew that Shiki would construe his words as such, but he couldn’t resist using them to get a rise out of Shiki. It was, after all, rather amusing to see the man so riled up about his favourite.

 

“What do you propose, Shiki-san?”

 

Shiki remained silent and expressionless as he replaced his empty glass at the mini bar he’d retrieved it from. He walked purposefully towards Akabayashi, and stopped in front of him, staring straight down at the scarred Red Devil.

 

“Test him. If you’d honour my wishes, I’d like you to follow him.”

 

“Oh?” Akabayashi couldn’t help but feel both surprised and amused. He was convinced that Shiki was going to suggest following Orihara himself, but it seemed that that wasn’t to be.

 

“I'd like you to follow the Informant, observing his behaviour and activities. We don't know for sure that he isn't fraternising with other yakuza groups, and observing him is likely to make that clearer.”

 

“And what if he isn’t?”

 

“If he isn’t, he isn’t, but it doesn’t mean that he won’t do so in the near future. I’d like you to continue following him even if you find that he isn’t associated with another yakuza group. Orihara-kun isn’t being cautious enough about his own safety. He has a lot of enemies, and he could be easily vulnerable to them in his current state. We won't know if this evening was a unique event without gathering more information. It would, of course, be more ideal for me to ask some of our men, but I’d like to keep this...plan between the two of us. I can't follow the Informant myself - being most in contact with him puts me at a risk of being caught. Akabayashi-san, I believe you to be skilled enough tail him with ease.”

 

There was a pregnant pause as Akabayashi contemplated the request, examining the many, sharp-edged facets of becoming embroiled in Shiki and Orihara’s affairs. It wasn’t so much that he was concerned about becoming involved with Orihara’s affairs, or even being caught by him - Akabayashi saw the Informant as akin to an inexperienced child of no danger or consequence to him. It was the fact that he would be acting as a go-between, a mediating party...which is always a dangerous position to hold.

 

“Think of it as a personal favour.”

 

Lowering his glass, Akabayashi inclined his head in consent. It might be to his benefit to find out what exactly it was about the Informant that had Shiki so captivated.

 

“Excellent. Begin as soon as possible, if you will; and contact me immediately if you witness anything of interest. I’ll repay the favour whenever you deem it necessary.”

 

Akabayashi rose from the sofa and made his way towards the door resolutely.

 

“I understand.”

 

*******************

 

Izaya was currently experiencing what he believed to be the worst headache of his life. He wasn't even sick, but his muscles ached from their lack of rest. His face, nose and hands were numb from being drenched and exposed to the cold weather, and _his head_ \- his head was throbbing as though it had its own pulse, his brain being squeezed with each agonizing beat. All he wanted to do was go home and lie down, but that would involve catching a train, and the thought of being surrounded by all of the noise and the heat and the people made his head spin even worse.

 

So this must be what it felt like to have a migraine...he stopped, clutching some railings to ground himself as his vision became a series of dancing black cubes, divided only by fuzzy white lines. The brightness in his vision suddenly grew blinding, and he felt something on his arm. Without hesitation he pulled his switchblade from his sleeve and pointed it at the offending party. Then he heard it, a neighing sound, echoey and ethereal. It must be Celty. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a few seconds, he opened them again to see Celty, who’d backed away a few steps when he’d drawn the knife as though she'd accidentally touched a rabid animal.

 

_[Izaya, what’s going on? Are you okay?]_

 

God, his mouth had never felt so dry. He swallowed a few times before he managed to speak, reminding himself to stand up straight. He mustn’t let the courier see him like this.

 

“Peachy, Celty, just peachy.” He shot her an unconvincing smile, steadying himself to walk away even though it felt as though the ground beneath him was the unsteady floor of a bouncy castle.

 

_[If that’s true, then why did you pull a knife on me?! You should come to see Shinra if you’re sick.]_

 

“It’s just a migraine, Celty. It appears that even I’m not immune.”

 

_[Shinra said that you came by for some sleeping tablets.]_

 

“Ahh, Shinra really is the most appalling person for upholding the Hippocratic Oath...whatever happened to patient confidentiality?” 

 

_[He told me because he’s worried about you.]_

 

Izaya snorted. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard! Headless _and_ a comedian?! Who knew you had so many party tricks!" He threw his hands apart, the blade balanced expertly between his fingers. His threatening smile remained even as his tone became flat. "I know that Shinra isn’t in the least concerned, or he would have actually given me the tablets.”

 

_[Why is it that you need them?]_

 

“It’s a secret.”

 

Izaya began to walk away, but Celty mounted her horse and followed alongside him.

 

_[Why can’t you sleep?]_

Why? If only he knew why.

 

All he could hear going around his head was 'why', 'why', 'why' - Celty’s 'why’s' and his own 'why's', making it impossible for him to think or see clearly. The pressure was immense, and he felt as though he was either going to vomit or his head was going to explode.

 

_[If you won’t come to see Shinra, at least let me give you a lift home. It can’t be healthy for you to be wandering around soaked in weather like this, and you don’t look so good at all.]_

 

Izaya stopped, feeling himself wobbling, and realized that he probably wasn’t going to make it home at all if he carried on like this.

 

"Ahh, Celty-san's worried about my health!" He chirped halfheartedly, sliding his knife back up his sleeve. Taking that as a sign of agreement, Celty transformed her horse into a motorbike, helping Izaya climb onto it before they sped off in the direction of Shinjuku, Izaya praying that Namie wouldn’t be there to see him in this woeful state.

 

From a safe distance, Akabayashi watched, making a mental note that the Informant had just pointed a knife at the Headless Rider without provocation, in an entirely ineffective gesture of a threat.

 

*******************

 

Arriving home didn’t really grant Izaya the relief that he so desired, as he found himself clutching the toilet bowl and vomiting bile for a good fifteen minutes before he was able to pull himself to his feet and use the shower, limbs shaking and stomach muscles sore from the exertion. Namie was indeed home, but had thus far refrained from making any sarcastic or unsympathetic remarks. In fact, seeing Izaya in such a state had stirred up the little empathy that she had within her, and so she found herself making him soup and a cup of tea while he used the shower.

 

Stumbling out, Izaya threw himself onto the sofa, looking at the ceiling with stinging eyes.

 

“What’s up with you?” Namie interrogated, a look of distaste written on her face as she loomed over him.

 

“Migraine.” Izaya mumbled, rolling onto his side so that he was facing the back of the sofa.

 

“You should have at least dried your hair - having it wet and cold isn’t going to help your headache.” Namie set the cup of tea and bowl of soup down on the table beside him.

 

“Too noisy.”

 

“Hmphf. I made you some soup.”

 

Izaya rolled back onto his back, looking up at Namie blearily.

 

“Huh? Why? Trying to see me off for good are we, Namie-chan?”

 

“Because you look terrible, and quite frankly, even I feel sorry for you. That’s how pitiful you look.”

 

Izaya scowled. “That’s generally what migraines do to people, Namie.”

 

“That on its own wouldn’t make you look this bad. You’re gaunt, and there are dark circles under your eyes.”

 

“Excellent observation. Now, if that’s all for today, you should be going.”

 

“Have you not been sleeping properly? You don’t seem particularly focused on your work as of late either, now that I think about it.”

 

“Well, don’t use your brain too much, Namie - who knows what could happen!" Izaya gasped in fake shock. "Now can you please get back to work?!”

 

“I suppose I better had, seeing as I’m the only one who does around here.” Namie fixed Izaya with a scornful glare before joining the stack of files at her desk, watching him out of the corner of her eye all the while. Eventually, the pained look on his wretched face was distracting her so much that she couldn’t help but lob a packet of painkillers directly at his irritating, useless self.

 

Izaya’s lack of response was highly disconcerting, and it was then that Namie began to question whether her boss was still alive, unlikely though it was that he had died in the five minutes that she had been back at her desk.

 

“Izaya?” She said softly, almost hoping that there would be no answer when _his_ name had come out of _her_ mouth like that.

 

No answer.

 

“Izaya?” More loudly this time.

 

Sighing heavily, Namie got to her feet and stalked over to him, shooting a glare at the chessboard with its pieces scattered and toppled all over the surface as she did so. The lack of answer could be attributed to the fact that Izaya had fallen asleep, curled up in a tiny ball on his side with the soup and tea untouched.

  
“So much for trying to be nice.” Namie grumbled, but she couldn’t stop herself from throwing a blanket haphazardly over her bastard of an employer anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I just couldn't resist a bit of IzaNami fluff :) <3 Things will get going in the next chapter, I promise. There will be drama ahoy!


	4. Liquid Ecstasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya decides to use Nakura to get to Amphisbaena, but Nakura has some plans of his own...

Izaya woke up approximately two hours later to an empty apartment, a cold cup of tea and a bowl of soup whose contents appeared remarkably similar to stagnant dishwater that had developed a film on top. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and tipped them both down the kitchen sink. He could probably have reheated them, but he didn’t trust Namie’s cooking or the unappetizing appearance of the dish. His fridge yielded no better options, although a mouldy avocado was a close competitor. Eventually, he decided that he’d just swing by Russia Sushi. There were plenty of other restaurants that he could eat at in Shinjuku, but the places that he trusted to obtain his sustenance were strictly limited to Russia Sushi and the supermarket. He had enemies everywhere, and Izaya was pretty sure that all it’d take would be some cash pushed in the direction of the waiters or waitresses for him to end up spiked, or even poisoned. He’d heard tales before of yakuza traitors being poisoned with anti-freeze, and it wouldn’t surprise him if one of his own enemies decided to employ a similar tactic. Although it’d probably be Nakura that they’d end up killing instead of him...

 

“Hmmm...perhaps I should give my dear friend Nakura a call.” Izaya’s face split into a sadistic grin as he settled himself at his desk chair, thoughts of food forgotten.

 

RING. RING. RING. RING. RING. RI-

 

“Hello?”

 

“Is that my dear friend Nakura-san~?” Izaya sang, twirling his switchblade between thin fingers and positively beaming.

 

“What do you want this time?” Nakura’s tone of voice immediately switched from neutral to hostile.

 

“Now, now - I’d be a little more polite if I were you, Nakura-san.”

 

Nakura fell deathly silent, goosebumps breaking out over his skin at the ice in Izaya’s tone.

 

“How do you feel about a little meet-up, Nakura-san? You’re clearly in the spirit of reunion after all, and I must say, I’m a little hurt that I didn’t get an invite.”

 

“What - what are you talking about?”

 

“Why, Amphisbaena of course! I assume that you’re still in contact with our most treasured friend?”

 

“W-who...who do you mean?”

 

“Ahh, Nakura-san, your stupidity never ceases to amaze me. Let’s play a game, shall we? What feeds on detritus and crawls underground?”

 

“Um, a worm? Earthworm?! I...how...you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Nakura hissed, gripping his phone more tightly. “You’ve never even met her.”

 

“You don’t have to meet somebody to have a strong interest in them. Just look at Ruri-chan and all her fans! Besides, I’m sure you know that from being on the receiving end of such a feat, Nakura-san.”

 

“Stop messing with me! Just tell me what you want.”

 

“I want you to trap Earthworm.”

 

“Trap her? But how?”

 

Izaya felt more powerful with every word. Not having control of his own life was so _secondary_ and unimportant when it took only a few words to have Nakura shaking and desperate to follow his every whim.

 

“I’m sure you already have an idea of what I’m going to say. Of course, you recall that Earthworm had somewhat of an obsession with you, and probably still does. Use that to organize a ‘date’ of sorts. It’s up to you how you do it. You can get her drunk enough that she’ll blindly follow you to the warehouse where I wish to meet her, or you can slip something into her drink. I have a feeling that Nakura-san will go with the first one though - he always wanted to be a leader, didn’t he?”

 

Nakura swallowed nervously. He hated Orihara Izaya. He hated him more than anything.

 

“When?”

 

“Within the next day.” Izaya hung up, feeling incredibly smug and wholly deserving of some otoro. At this rate, he might even have a drink of his own. The two hours sleep had improved his mood dramatically, and seeing his plans fall into place gave him an adrenaline rush like no other, besides being chased by Shizuo. Ahh, maybe it was time to pay a little visit to Shizu-chan...

 

*******************

 

Heiwajima Shizuo was in a very conflicted mood. On the one hand, he didn’t have any food in his fridge, and after being sent another bill from the council for public property that he had broken (with warnings of legal action this time) it was a pleasant relief that Celty had invited him for dinner. For a being that had no need to eat or drink, her cooking wasn’t all bad - and even though Shinra could be highly irritating, Celty kept him under control for the most part. What bothered Shizuo was the fact that Shinra and Celty were talking about the fucking _Flea_.

 

“Sleeping pills?” Shizuo asked unenthusiastically, swallowing some bibimbap (Celty was on a Korean cooking drive at the moment).

 

“Yeah,” Shinra nodded “he came here this morning asking for them. Who knows what he’s got planned this time!” He sighed dramatically, pouring another cup of sake for Shizuo.

 

_[I took him to his apartment this evening, actually. He didn’t look very well at all.]_

 

“He can go and die for all I care - it’d be nice to have him out of my hair for once.”

 

_[But you don’t really mean that, Shizuo.]_

 

“I do.” Shizuo jabbed his chopsticks viciously into a piece of meat, conversation about the Flea making him feel as though he should find him and kill him with his bare hands with immediate effect.

 

“Hasn’t he been ‘out of your hair’ for a while now, Shizuo-kun? When did you last see him?”

 

“About three weeks ago, I think?” Shizuo paused, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s the longest he’s stayed away since I met him…he must be planning something big this time.”

 

_[Or there really is something going on with him.]_

 

“I thought that you didn’t like him, Celty?”

 

 _[And I thought that you did, Shinra.]_ Celty scolded.

 

“Hmm, well I wouldn’t say that I like him, but he _is_ my friend I suppose.”

 

“Why did you take him back to his apartment? I thought that he usually just stunk up the trains instead.” Shizuo quipped darkly.

 

_[I was worried about him. He seemed really out of it, and he pulled his knife on me - he said that he had a migraine when I asked what was going on.]_

“He pulled his knife on you?! That’s it, I’M GOING TO KILL THE FUCKER!!” Shizuo squeezed his sake cup so hard that it shattered, the liquid pooling on the glass table.

 

_[Wait, Shizuo! I don't think he knew who I was when he threatened me.]_

 

“That’s no excuse.” Shizuo growled, feeling slightly embarrassed that he had once again managed to break Shinra’s tableware. “Maybe he’s been taking drugs or some shit, it wouldn’t be the first fucked up thing he’s done.” Oh, how he would love to see the Flea become addicted to something other than fighting with him.

 

_[That’s enough! I’m genuinely concerned about him, and none of you are taking me seriously. What if something happens to him? What if he pulls a knife on the wrong person next time?]_

 

“He shouldn’t be carrying weapons around anyway. With all due respect, I didn’t come here to talk about the Flea. I’d be glad if something happened to him after all that he’s done to me - he’s been going out of his way to ruin my life since I met him, and it’s about time something shitty happened to him too, so he can get a taste of his own fucking medicine!”

 

“Shizuo-kun! Mind your language at the dinner table, please.”

 

_[Look, Shizuo - I know that you and Izaya-kun have a bad history together, but maybe you should consider making amends? This warring can’t go on forever...all of these council bills are causing you a lot of financial strain, and I’m sure that fighting with him makes you feel stressed all of the time.]_

“On the contrary, the exercise that Shizuo-kun gets from chasing Izaya-kun releases adrenaline and endorphins linked to positive mood, which consequently affiliates them with stress relie-OW!” Shinra clutched his arm with a face of mock hurt as Celty abruptly cut him off with a sharp blow to the bicep. He sighed and turned back to Shizuo, fiddling with the arms of his glasses.

 

“In any case, I agree with Celty. I mean, look at how you reacted to what my darling said.” Shinra plucked the broken cup from Shizuo’s hand and pushed it towards the edge of the table.

 

“I don’t know how you think I’m going to become friends with someone who’s been fucking me around for years.”

 

“We’re not suggesting that you make friends - just that you make...a truce!” Shinra smiled encouragingly and looked at Celty for reassurance, but Celty was busy gazing at her phone (if you could call it that) before she began tapping a new message frantically, her shadows moving chaotically as though struck by gale force winds.

 

_[Anri-chan is missing. Mikado-kun says that she wasn’t in school after lunchtime, and when they went to her home to see why she’d left school early she wasn’t there either. She isn’t replying to any of her messages.]_

“Missing? Isn’t it a bit soon to say that? There’s probably a simple explanation; perhaps Anri-chan went to the shop and forgot to take her phone with her?”

 

“But she wouldn’t be at the shops for hours on end. It sounds like that Mikado kid has been trying for a good few hours.”

 

_[Longer than that. Mikado-kun and Kida-kun have been trying to get in contact with her since 1 pm.]_

Shizuo looked at the clock on the wall with a frown. It was nearing 9 pm now.

 

_[I think that we should go and look for her.]_

*******************

 

The movement of the train was enough to make Izaya feel sleepy again, but the ringing of his phone quickly snapped him back into reality before he could nod off. The number on the screen was listed as withheld, but, as Izaya was accustomed to receiving such calls, he thought nothing of it as he pressed the answer button.

 

“Orihara Izaya.” The voice came before he had the chance to say hello, and sounded decidedly mal-intentioned.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“I know what you want.”

 

There was a pause as Izaya looked around the train carriage suspiciously, failing to notice Akabayashi discreetly tucked into the crowds.

 

“Oh, and what’s that?”

 

“I think you already know. Meet me at the bar opposite Russia Sushi. Half nine, sharp.”

 

“I’m afraid I already have other arrangements.” This was a lie of sorts. Izaya’s evening plans consisted of having some otoro in Russia Sushi and watching his humans, but the voice on the other end of the line compelled him to hide the truth. There was something vaguely familiar about it, yet the ambiguity of the message was so enticing Izaya was almost tempted to go and see what it was all about.

 

“And I’m afraid that you’ll have to cancel these arrangements if you want to get what you want.” Akabayashi watched Izaya’s reflection in the window morph from one of interest to a sneer as Akabayashi ended the call abruptly. He watched as Izaya immediately began to text somebody else.

 

[Nakura-san. I know what you’re trying to do.]

 

*******************

 

Nakura fidgeted uncomfortably on the stool in Russia Sushi where he sat with Earthworm.

 

“I wanted to warn you before he gets to you.”

 

“Oh?” Earthworm smiled sweetly, sipping her drink as she gazed at Nakura with interest. He was a plain looking man, lacking any defining features. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Medium height. No freckles, no piercings of note, no tattoos, no gap between his teeth, nothing. Earthworm remembered how when she had known Nakura in middle school, he had identical moles on either side of his face. Those were gone now. Still, Earthworm felt drawn to him. There was something about somebody so ordinary and featureless that made them the most precious of goods - easily malleable and easy to mark as her own.

 

“And how exactly did he plan to ‘get’ me?”

 

Nakura’s eyes darted around, as though he was expecting to see Izaya any minute.

 

“He wanted me to drug you and bring you to a warehouse.” He mumbled eventually, fingers tensing as he gripped his own knees.

 

“I see. He knows where our base is. So the rumours about him are true.” Earthworm’s long, painted nails tapped along the stem of her wineglass, smiling as though she were playing a highly amusing game.

 

“He’s going to regret ever messing with you, Nakura-san. Now, what does he usually drink?”

 

“It depends. We haven’t met very often...one time he didn’t have anything to drink, the next he had bottled water, and the other time he had whisky.”

 

“Is there a pattern to this?”

 

Nakura frowned, scratching his head absentmindedly. “The two times he had nothing or water were in the day, and the time that he had whisky was here in the evening, but he'd ordered it before I arrived. I think he'd just finished eating...there were other glasses and stuff on the table, so he must have had a meeting or something before that...I don't know.”

 

“And were the other two times elsewhere?”

 

Nakura nodded. Seeing her chance, Earthworm acted quickly.

 

“Excuse me, Simon! Can I see that bottle, please?” She asked, pointing at an expensive looking whisky bottle on the shelf.

 

Simon handed it to her, watching as her fingers delicately traced the characters.

 

“I’ve heard great things about this whisky! Do people order it a lot?”

 

“Yes, it’s favourite with regular customers.”

 

“Do you have lots of regular customers?”

 

“Dotachin, Erika, Walker, Togusa, Mikado, Kida, Anri sometimes, Shizu-o, Izaya…”

 

“Ahh, Izaya. I’m a friend of his. It’s his birthday soon, but he’s so mysterious I never know what to get him!" Earthworm pouted, pretending to think before continuing. "I was thinking of getting him a bottle of something…” She trailed off, looking at Simon hopefully.

 

“He like this!” Simon gestured towards the bottle, beaming happily. “I thought birthday in May, you get present too early.” He moved away as the chef beckoned him, and Earthworm nudged Nakura hard in the ribs.

 

“The drug!” She hissed. Nakura dug the bottle (which looked like a Calpol container) out of his pocket, and snatching it under the counter, Earthworm decanted a generous serving into the whisky bottle, pouring far more than necessary for good measure.

 

“What if somebody else drinks it?” Nakura whispered, strained.

 

“It’d be a small loss. There’s not much left in the bottle, anyway." She whispered back replacing the bottle on the counter. "Thank you, Simon!”

 

She laughed shortly. “That was too easy. Now we go to the bar over the road and wait until we see him come out. It takes about 15 minutes for it to work.”

 

Approximately 25 minutes later, Orihara Izaya mistook his feelings of drowsiness and dizziness as symptoms for his lack of sleep.

 

30 minutes later, the last thing that Orihara Izaya saw before his eyelids fell shut was a blurry-faced Nakura and a blonde woman named Earthworm.

 

Akabayashi watched from the safety of his car as Nakura carelessly hefted Izaya over his shoulder and began to walk deeper into the maze of back alleys with a woman clad in a revealing purple dress.

 

"Shiki-san? Yes. They've got the Informant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, this chapter ended in a double kidnapping. There will be Shizaya eventually, I promise. However, it will come at the appropriate time to the progression of the plot, so you may have to wait another chapter or two for that ;)
> 
> EDIT: So despite the title of this chapter, I somehow managed to make a really stupid mistake... I originally wrote that the whisky was spiked with drugs in the form of three tablets. This has now been amended to better reflect the form that the drug GHB or 'liquid ecstasy' actually comes in. I like to be as accurate as possible, so if anybody notices similar errors please point them out. I've also edited this chapter to make the conversation surrounding Anri's disappearance clearer. Thank you for your continued support :)


	5. Away With the Faeries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nakura and Earthworm's planned interrogation gets cut short when something happens to Izaya that's out of their control. [I give up writing chapter summaries, seriously.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I made an important plot error in the last chapter, which has now been amended. I also made some other edits to make the events of the plot clearer, so it's worth giving it another read before moving onto this chapter. Thank you!

Anri awoke in a poorly lit room reminiscent of a police interrogation cell, and would have believed it were so, were it not for discrepancies between the two images. Firstly, she was lying on a sofa as opposed to sitting on a chair facing another with a table in between. The sofa looked and smelt as though it had been taken directly from outside someone's house, which, although proved that this was _not_ a police interrogation room, sadly provided no better indicator as to what type of place this was. Secondly, the room did not contain a two-way mirror, nor did the heavy, reinforced fire door bear any windows (although, upon closer inspection, Anri noted a keyhole which entirely defeated the object of it being a fire door). Thirdly, her hands were tied together in front of her, and there were no handcuffs in sight. An amateurish mistake. The lack of handcuffs provided a small relief, but the very presence of the rope binding her wrists together had alarm bells ringing in Anri’s head. They were proof that whatever had happened and however she’d got here was no misunderstanding. She was there for a very particular purpose - and Anri was sure that it wasn’t going to be nice.

 

Focusing all of her energy into alerting Saika’s children, Anri found that the customarily uncontrollable voices had been subdued to such a dull murmur that the buzzing in her ears easily drowned them out. She felt groggy, as though she was sinking in sludge, and her mouth was absolutely parched. Adding all of this together, alongside the discovery of a tender spot on her thigh, Anri confirmed the theory that she'd been drugged.

 

Anri was afraid. She feared that the longevity of her headache would prevent her from communicating with Saika’s children before it was too late. She was afraid that Ryuugamine Mikado and Kida Masaomi had been taken too. Most of all, she feared what her captor or captors would do to her when they returned. Rooting through her blazer pockets, she found that her phone was absent. With no way out of the room or of communicating with those that could help, Anri realized that her best chance was to wait until her abductors returned, and hope that she could control them with Saika.

 

*****************

 

Shiki stubbed out his cigarette and proceeded to light a new one, impatience bristling despite the calm of his demeanor. Waiting for details on the Informant was not conducive to his mood, so it seemed. It bothered him that Izaya, who had once been so firmly within his grasp, was getting further and further away. Although he knew that this movement was to be expected as Orihara grew older and no longer required Shiki’s guidance, it didn’t make him resent it any less. Shiki was not ready to relinquish Izaya from his grasp just yet.

 

“Orihara-kun declined your meeting? I suppose that he isn't losing his touch after all.”

 

Akabayashi frowned, wondering if Shiki had somehow missed the part where he said that Izaya had been taken captive.

 

“Amphisbaena have him. I'm sure it’s them.”

 

“Excellent. We’ll have our information soon, I hope.”

 

Akabayashi drummed his fingers on the steering wheel irritably. Just what part of this conversation was Shiki not understanding?

 

“I wouldn't count on that, Shiki-san.”

 

“Oh? Has there been anything that you suspect proves his disloyalty?”

 

“No.”

 

“I see. Orihara-kun works in weird and wonderful ways, Akabayashi-san. He may look as though he's befriending Amphisbaena, or even being taken hostage by them, but however he manufactures the situation will ultimately be to his - and consequently our - advantage.”

 

“I mean no disrespect, Shiki-san, but I believe that the Informant is genuinely in danger this time. If he’s manufactured this situation, there's been a malfunction in his plan. He was unconscious when they took him away.”

 

“Unconscious? Where are you, Akabyashi-san?”

 

“Opposite Russia Sushi.”

 

Shiki took a long breath, smoothing the lapels of his suit.

 

“I'll be there shortly.”

 

*************

Leaning against the railings outside Anri’s apartment, Shizuo went over the facts in his mind, allowing his cigarette ash to drop below. It was 9:36 pm. Mikado and Kida hadn’t heard from or seen Anri since around 1 pm. She wasn’t in her apartment, and there was no evidence of breaking an entry, nor was there a note explaining her whereabouts. To label her missing after only eight and a half hours might seem like a stretch, but Shizuo had a bad feeling about this. From what he’d seen of her, Anri was meek and eager to please. It would be incredibly out of character for her to leave school midday without good reason.

 

“She hasn’t been home,” Shizuo stated dejectedly, staring blankly into the distance “and if she was sick she’d be here.”

 

_[She might have returned home and then gone out again?]_

“Her school bag and shoes weren’t there. If she left school early, I don’t think that she’d be at somebody else’s house studying now. She’d only leave school at that time if she was feeling sick, right?”

 

_[Maybe she had a doctor’s appointment?]_

 

“She’d be back from it now, though. Besides, the kid would’ve told her friends she was leaving. She wouldn’t go just like that.”

 

_[No...I suppose not. What if she’s at the hospital?]_

 

“The teachers would’ve been told. Mikado said that their homeroom teacher was surprised when they did the afternoon register, didn’t he?”

 

Celty ceased punching out a message and deleted it. _[We need to continue searching. Anri-chan could be in danger, and she doesn’t have any family to help look for her.]_

 

Shizuo nodded and moved towards the stairs, stopping abruptly at the top.

 

“Celty, do you think the Flea’s got anything to do with this?”

 

_[I don’t know…]_

_[I think we should go back to Shinra.]_

 

*********

Arriving back at Shrina and Celty’s apartment, Shizuo and Celty found Shinra checking online chatrooms and message boards for news of Anri.

 

“Shinra.”

 

“Ahh, Shizuo-kun. Any luck?”

 

“No.” Shizuo gripped the back of Shrina’s computer chair, trying his best not to crush it. “We were just thinking, what if the Flea’s involved?”

 

“Ooh, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner! I’ll give him a call to find out. If he says he’s got nothing to do with it, he could always help us trace Anri’s phone. He’s good at that sort of thing.”

 

“I doubt he’d agree to help with something like that.” Shizuo grumbled.

 

Shrina grinned sadistically. “Believe me, I have my ways of persuading him.” Grabbing his mobile, Shinra hastily dialled Izaya’s number and pressed it to his ear. The dial tone rang and rang until it eventually went to answerphone.

 

“That’s weird - he always answers his phone. I’ll try his home number.” Shrina set about calling again, the tension between his eyebrows deepening as there was no answer. “Hmm, maybe Yagiri-san?” His hands felt slippery as he dialled Namie’s number, preparing himself for her acerbic attacks.

 

“Who’s speaking?”

 

“Kishitani Shrina. I’ve been trying to contact Orihara-kun, to no avail. Do you know where he is, Yagiri-san?”

 

“No, I don’t. What he does in the evenings is no business of mine, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t involve me in his life outside of working hours.”

 

“Wait, Yagiri-san!” Shrina called desperately, but Namie had already hung up. He turned back to Shizuo and Celty with the expression of a loyal hound who’d had its favourite toy taken away.

 

“It’s very unusual for him not to answer his phone...in fact, I’ve never known him not to answer it or leave a message of some sort...he usually sets one on his voicemail if he’s in a meeting.”

 

“He’s been acting weird though, hasn’t he - pulling a knife on Celty and all that...what if he’s gone mad and kidnapped Anri?”

 

 _[Shizuo!]_ Celty admonished, her shadows out of control fireworks shooting everywhere. _[Don’t say that! We don’t know what’s happened, so let’s just focus on finding her without making too many assumptions.]_

 

“As much as I fucking hate the Flea, I don’t know how we’re supposed to find her without his help…” Shizuo trailed off, gripping the back of the desk chair just that little bit tighter.

 

************

Izaya couldn’t see, but he could feel the rhythmic motion of footsteps and Nakura’s shoulder blade digging into his stomach. He knew that he was being taken somewhere, but he couldn’t open his eyes, let alone try to move out of Nakura’s grasp. Dimly, somewhere in the corner of his mind, he could hear his mobile’s ringtone sounding. Then, there was complete darkness before he could register it.

 

Nakura crouched slightly and dropped Izaya on the warehouse floor as though he were a sack of useless, blighted potatoes. He glared at the motionless body, holding back the urge to kick him and kick him until he bled from his mouth, but instead settled for pushing Izaya roughly to his side, tearing off his coat and rolling up thin shirt sleeves to check for weapons concealed beneath. He discovered Izaya’s switchblade inside the coat sleeve, secured by an additional piece of fabric that had clearly been sewn in for that very purpose. Plucking Izaya’s mobile phone from his jeans pocket, Nakura tossed it to the ground and stamped on it until the display reading ‘MISSED CALLS - KISHITANI SHINRA (2)’ went blank and the screen cracked.

 

“Tie him up.” Earthworm ordered, gesturing for some of her men to bring rope over. A disused factory warehouse really was an ideal place to keep captives. There was plenty of rope around, and an abundance of old chemicals that could be put to good use...

 

Nakura scowled, stooping again to tie Izaya’s hands and feet together tightly enough that he’d get rope burn if he tried to escape.

 

“How long before he wakes up?” He asked, nudging Izaya in the stomach with the toe of his shoe.

 

“It could be a while - we did use a lot of the drug.”

 

“Pfft. What a waste of time. We just gonna stand by ‘til he wakes up then? I don't wanna see any more of his ugly face than I have to.”

 

“Now, now, are you jealous Nakura-kun? I hear he's almost as famous for his looks as he is for his information. He's not to my taste, though; he's a bit too pretty for me, what with those long eyelashes and high cheekbones. I can't stand people who are so aware of their own beauty...I much prefer those who don't always see their true value. Modesty is more precious a value than vanity, is it not? And you Nakura-kun, _you’re so modest_ , and really, that's your downfall. You let Orihara walk all over you because you believe his value to be greater than your own.” Earthworm encircled her arms around Nakura’s waist from behind, one hand grazing his cheekbone and ear softly.

 

_Yes. She was right. She was right!_

Nakura’s teeth clenched together harder as Earthworm continued, a violent urge to mortally injure the man in front of him prickling in his veins. Balling his fists until his nails left indents in his palms, Nakura drew back his leg and aimed a ferocious kick at Izaya's ribs, striking again at his stomach and thighs. It was hardly a fitting punishment for the man who'd exploited his childhood mistake and made him pay endlessly, but that was fine. They had plenty more in store where that came from.

 

Now it was Izaya’s turn to pay.

 

“Wake the fuck up! I'll show you who's better!” Nakura growled.

 

There was an anticipatory pause as no movement was made, Nakura panting and sweating and just about ready to stamp on Izaya’s head, but he was distracted as the Informant suddenly became completely rigid, bound limbs curling towards himself as best as they could with how tightly they were tied. Silence fell between Nakura and Earthworm as they watched in confusion, before a strange, choked cry pierced it. Izaya’s limbs suddenly shot outwards, the rope already decorating his ashen skin with friction burns as his limbs continued to jolt, bloody spit trickling from the corner of his mouth as his facial muscles twitched rapidly.

 

“What the! Did-did I do that?!” Nakura asked in horror, backing away from Izaya as Earthworm drew closer.

 

“No.” She responded quietly, crouching down to get a better look. “He's having a seizure. We must have given him too much of the drug - it's known to cause them in high doses.”

 

“Well, that's serious isn't it?! What do we do?”

 

“Nothing. He deserves it, right?” Earthworm smiled sweetly, stroking Izaya’s hair as she watched his head slam into the ground and his lips turn blue.

 

“But what if he doesn't wake up again? We can't interrogate him if he's like this!” Nakura felt as though he was going to be sick. As much as he hated Orihara Izaya, watching him unconsciously writhing and twitching on a dirty warehouse floor was terrifying.

 

“If he does wake up, he'll get me for sure!” Nakura’s eyes widened with the dawning horror of the idea, wobbling slightly as he checked his surroundings anxiously. “I’m-I'm out of here!” With one last glance in Izaya’s direction, Nakura turned and fled, certain that whether Orihara Izaya lived or died, he'd haunt him forever.

 

*******

 

Anri scooted back on the sofa as she heard a key turn in the lock, a tall bulky man with a bowl haircut and distastefully dyed platinum blonde hair entering immediately afterwards.

 

“Hey there, little girl. Awake at last, I see!”

 

Anri swallowed, concentrating on using Saika.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“It’s not what I want, kid, it’s what the boss wants. You’ve got a nice rack, you ‘ave, and the boss thinks you’ll draw in plenty of new customers.”

 

Anri squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, they were crimson red.

 

_“Bring me my phone, now.”_

 

 _“Yes, Mother.”_ The man took Anri’s phone from his pocket and handed it to her. The signal was poor, but thankfully there was enough to make a call.

 

 _“Where are we?”_ Anri asked as she looked through her contact list for Shinra. She had a feeling that she might need his help.

 

_“The old Akiyama factory.”_

 

_“Are Ryuugamine Mikado and Masaomi Kida here?”_

_“No, Mother.”_ Anri nodded, unable to feel relieved yet.

 

_“Who is here?”_

 

 _“Earthworm-sama, Nakura-san…”_ Anri stopped listening as the man trailed off a number of unfamiliar names. _“...and Orihara Izaya.”_ From what Anri knew, Orihara Izaya was involved in all sorts of trouble, but hearing the name still shocked her.

 

_“Orihara-san?”_

 

_“Yes.”_

 

 _“Take me to him.”_ Anri followed the man out of the room, pressing ‘call’ on her phone as she did so.

 

************

“Simon!” Shizuo shouted, barging into Russia Sushi like a bull in a china shop, and quickly followed by Shinra and Celty. Simon pivoted to deposit the trays that he was carrying before advancing towards Shizuo, his hands raised in a placatory gesture.

 

“Shizu-o, no shout, you scare customer.” He entreated, driving Shizuo towards the door as best as he could.

 

“Simon, we need to know if you’ve seen Sonohara Anri today.” Shinra chipped in quickly, trying to distract Simon from his task.

 

“No, I no see her today. Mikado no come either.”

 

“Has the Flea been?” Shizuo asked, sidestepping Simon. Celty gave Shizuo’s shoulder a firm squeeze, and Shizuo grimaced as though speaking his enemy’s real name pained him. “I mean, has Izaya been here today?”

 

“Yes~, Izaya here nearly one hour ago. I find out strange thing Shizu-o: Izaya have friend!”

 

Celty thrust her phone at Shizuo, who took a step back at the sudden intrusion in his personal space. Blinking, he read the message quickly and recounted it to Simon.

 

“Was he here with other people?”

 

“No~, but people come before, and they say they buy present. It nice, no?”

 

“What were they called, Simon?”

 

“Man called Namura, I don’t know what girl name is.” Simon shrugged indifferently. “I need to work again Shizu-o, you should eat sushi now, sushi good for you!”

 

“Nakura-kun.” Shinra said suddenly. “Something must have happened with Nakura-kun. He’s had a grudge against Orihara-kun since middle school.”

 

“I don’t care about the fucking Flea! What about Anri?! If his fucking grudge has gone and got Anri in trouble I’m going to tear his shitty brains out!” Shizuo slammed his fist into a nearby unoccupied seat, causing it to fall to pieces as the legs fell off.

 

“Shizu-o, you go now, you break too many thing.” Simon warned, narrowing his eyes. Shizuo took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

 

“Yeah. Sorry, Simon.”

 

RING. RING. RING. R-

 

“It’s Anri-chan!” Shrina exclaimed excitedly, flipping his mobile open. “Anri-chan, are you okay? Where have you been?!” Shinra could hear somebody sobbing and shrieking the words ‘COWARD!!’ in the background.

 

“Anri-chan, what’s going on?!”

 

“I’m at Akiyama factory. I don’t know what happened Kishitani-sensei, but I’m safe - I’m using Saika to control the people around me, but I’m not able to use it to my full power to call Saika’s children. I think that they must have given me drugs.”

 

“Okay, is there anyone else there?”

 

“They have Orihara-san.” Anri whispered, tentatively taking a step through the door into the room where Izaya was being held. “There’s a woman, and she’s going mad. She’s crying, and she keeps shouting and kicking things. I can’t see what, though.” Anri took a step closer, craning her neck nervously. Of all the things that had happened that day, this shocked her the most. Lying tied up on the floor, twitching violently was Orihara Izaya.

 

“Use Saika to control the woman. We’re coming to get you now, Anri-chan, just hang in there!” Already, Celty and Shizuo were aboard Celty’s motorcycle, Shinra deciding that he’d follow behind on foot as Shizuo’s super strength and Celty’s supernatural powers would be of the most immediate help in this situation.

 

Anri approached the woman cautiously, staring at her directly as she willed Saika to do as she bid.The woman’s eyes quickly went red, as if a bloody sea had washed over the pebble grey.

 

_“Move away from Orihara-san.”_

As the woman retreated, Anri rushed forwards. Untying the ropes as quickly as possible, she flinched as Izaya’s blood coated her palms. The ropes had rubbed his skin raw, his wounds dirty from the dust on the ground, and the skin that wasn’t covered in blood was damp and clammy. As he was freed from the ropes, the violence of his movements decreased, the spaces between the twitches growing longer until Izaya stopped moving altogether. Anri retrieved his coat and gently wiped his mouth with it, placing it under his head and praying that Shinra-san would arrive soon.

 

It was another three minutes before Celty and Shizuo arrived, and by this point Izaya had begun to seize again.

 

“What the fuck is going on?” Shizuo spat incredulously. There was Anri, crouched next to a spasming, bloody body with tears running down her face whilst a red-eyed woman in a low-cut purple dress stood, staring gormlessly in the background.

 

“Where’s Kishitani-sensei?” Anri sobbed. “I think Orihara-san is having a seizure.”

 

_[What happened to him?]_

 

“I don’t know, I didn’t see.”

 

“Oi! Stop fucking shaking, Flea!” Shizuo shouted angrily. More than anything, he wanted to grab Izaya and shake him himself - to tell him to snap the fuck out of it - but even he realized how ridiculous that would be. “Has he got that epiplepsy or some shit?”

 

_[No, Shinra would have told me if he did.]_

 

“Where’s Kishitani-sensei?” Anri repeated, her tears falling onto Izaya’s face.

 

 _[Shinra is on his way, Anri-chan. It’s going to be okay.]_ Celty slipped her hand into Anri’s, and Anri gripped it, nodding uncertainly. They stayed like this for another minute, all of them staring at Izaya but not really seeing.

 

“Why won’t he stop?” Shizuo mumbled quietly. Deep down he knew that it wasn’t physically possible to create this effect on purpose, and that Izaya would never in 1000 years let anybody see him like this willingly, but it didn’t stop him from being suspicious that Izaya was somehow trying to trick them.

 

There was something unsettling yet fascinating about seeing his enemy in this state, and the aspect of sick intrigue made Shizuo feel yet more uncomfortable, a surge of self-disgust attacking him for thinking such a thing. It reminded him of that quote that went something like ‘art is supposed to disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed’, but even comparing his battered and bloody enemy to a piece of art made Shizuo feel yet more confused. For once, Shizuo found himself wishing that the Flea was being his usual slimy self, causing chaos around Ikebukuro instead of being an uncontrollable mess on the floor.

 

“Has...has this just started now?” Shizuo asked hesitantly, trying to distract himself from these questions he had no answers to. He was supposed to be happy, so why was seeing the Flea like this freaking him out so much?

 

Anri shook her head. “He was doing this when I came in. It stopped for a few minutes, then it started again.”

 

Noisy panting caused them all (minus Izaya) to turn towards Shinra, who had arrived like an ungracious saviour, clutching his knees and breathing heavily before straightening up with a beam that vanished when he saw the scene in front of him.

 

“Damn - Orihara-kun!” Shinra rushed forwards and grabbed Izaya’s wrist, checking his pulse and examining his head anxiously before asking Anri the same question that Shizuo had just asked.

 

“This is bad. We need to get him to our place immediately.”

 

“What’s wrong with him?”

 

“The seizure isn’t a result of head trauma, and Orihara-kun isn’t epileptic. From what Anri’s told me and the fact that she was drugged, I expect it’s been caused by a drug overdose.”

 

“The Flea’s...taken drugs?” Shizuo asked tentatively, keeping his ground a firm distance away from Izaya.

 

“Yes. Either unintentionally, or he’s been forced to. When he stops I need you, Celty, to form a carriage to take us back to the apartment, and you, Shizuo, to put him in the back with me.”

 

“Shinra, I -”

 

“Just do it Shizuo. There are more important things than your petty rivalry right now.” Shinra snapped.

 

**************

  
Akabayashi Mizuki and Shiki Haruya arrived just in time to hear the end of the conversation, and, before they could enter the warehouse, a horse carrying the Headless Rider and Sonahara Anri, and a carriage pulling Heiwajima Shizuo, Kishitani Shinra and Orihara Izaya whizzed by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Just so you know, I made Shizuo say 'epiplepsy' on purpose.  
> 2) The descriptions in this chapter are by no means intended to offend or belittle people who have seizures. I have written the descriptions to reflect the characters' emotions and impressions of the events, and that it all.  
> 3) The seizure that is being described in this chapter is a 'tonic clonic' seizure, previously known as a 'grand mal' seizure. I have never experienced one myself, but I've watched lots of medical videos to inform my writing and descriptions from medical professionals. However, if you see something wrong please let me know.  
> 4) If you see somebody experiencing a seizure you should do the following:  
> *Call an ambulance if it is the person's first seizure, if the seizure lasts longer than five minutes, or if there are multiple seizures without the person regaining consciousness in between. I think it would be pretty obvious to call an ambulance immediately if the seizure is as a result of a head injury or a drug overdose.  
> *Do NOT try to restrain the individual, and DO NOT put anything in their mouth. They will not swallow their tongue, that is a myth. Putting something in their mouth is a choking hazard.  
> *Put something soft under their head.  
> *If possible move the person onto their side. This is to enable them to breathe more easily and to prevent them from choking on vomit or saliva.  
> *Once the seizure has stopped, move the person into the recovery position.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, comments, kudos and feedback are appreciated as always.


	6. And Tomorrow, You and I Will Be Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things just keep going from bad to worse.

As if witnessing the Flea having a seizure wasn't bad enough, Shizuo was now tasked with _touching_ him. Shrina was too occupied trying to contact Namie to be of any use, and Celty’s shadows could only do so much - Shinra had ordered her to wrap them around Izaya as loosely as possible while still doing their job in case he had another seizure. Shizuo knew that all it would take would be a sharp turn around a corner for Izaya to end up lying in the street, hence the steadying hand that he was forced to keep on Izaya’s torso under Shinra’s watchful gaze. The Flea felt so bony without his coat on - Shizuo could feel his ribs beneath his thumb and a sharp hipbone brushing against his little finger. He’d always known that the Flea was a scrawny little shit, but actually _touching_ him like this made Shizuo uncomfortably aware of how effortless it would be for him to break every bone in Izaya’s body. He could have seriously hurt Izaya in the past if he’d really wanted to, but he never had. What had stopped him? Swallowing awkwardly, he turned his attention back to Shrina, averting his eyes from the Flea (although it was hard _not_ to look at him when all he could see from the corner of his eye was Anri worriedly glancing over her shoulder). Shinra was mid-conversation with Namie, looking increasingly pale and agitated by the second.

 

“I know that...yes. Please Yagiri-san, it’s an emergency...if you don’t help him he’s going to end up with neurological damage...he could even die...Yagiri-san, you _know_ that status epilepticus is a medical emergency!...Yes, as I said, he’s already had two tonic-clonic seizures without waking up in between; I’ve tried to rouse him but he’s completely non-responsive...Yagiri-san, I can’t follow the pathway alone - I need someone to analyze his bloods and help prepare the correct amount of the solutions...Please Yagiri-san, I don’t know what else to say…”

 

Shizuo’s free hand darted out and snatched the phone from Shinra before he knew what he was doing. Although Shizuo was pretty sure that there was already something wrong with Izaya’s brain, the thought of him attaining (more?) brain damage or seizing so much that he died made Shizuo’s stomach churn. He was repulsed, revolted, _furious_ at the people that had put them in this situation... All he wanted to do was go home and go to bed, not have to deal with seeing the person that he hated most in the world in this state when it made him feel so fucking _confused_. At the same time, a part of him, no matter how uncomfortable it made him, wanted to stay until Namie came and the Flea was out of danger.

 

Suddenly, Shizuo felt the muscles beneath his hand contract sharply. His eyes flew to Izaya in alarm, expecting him to have another seizure, but instead he saw vomit and bile dripping onto the carriage floor.

 

“Ugh, God, he just threw up everywhere!!” Shizuo exclaimed, before realizing that he was still holding the phone to his ear. Shinra’s frown deepened, and he rose to wipe Izaya’s mouth with his already dirty coat, concerned that Izaya might aspirate it. “This is going to need a dry clean.” He mumbled wearily.

 

“Heiwajima Shizuo? Look, I’m not interested in-”

 

“Listen, Namie-san: I hate the Flea more than you do, but I’m helping out for Shinra. If you don’t help him, you’ll have to live with the fact that Shinra asked you for help, but -because you didn’t - someone died. I’m sure your little brother wouldn’t like his big sister as much if he knew that, and he’d definitely find out, because you wouldn’t be able to buy him nice things anymore.”

 

On the other end of the line, Namie tensed at the mention of Seiji. She turned slowly and looked at her brother’s face, unmistakable love and pain in her eyes. They were watching a film together in her Ikebukuro apartment. It’d been difficult to get Seiji on his own, seeing as he was so inseparable from Harima Mika. Namie had had to threaten sending Mika back to Yagiri pharmaceuticals for Mika to tell Seiji that she was busy with her girl friends that evening, and it was 100% girls only. Of course, Mika would much rather spend that time with Seiji, but she had to keep up good impressions, right? Seiji had complied, because part of loving somebody was respecting their wishes, and wasn’t there a saying that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’? Maybe if he didn’t see her for a few hours he’d love her even more!

 

Inside, Namie was screaming. She’d worked so hard, _so hard_ , to get her brother on his own for a bit, and now it had all been destroyed. She knew that Heiwajima Shizuo was right. Working for Izaya gave her a generous pay, and if she did lose her job she wouldn’t be able to afford sending Seiji presents constantly...but Namie still wasn’t convinced that she was really needed.

 

“Why can’t you take him to a hospital?” She asked, her suspicion growing.

 

Shizuo, having already asked Shinra that question himself in the hope that he wouldn’t have to spend any longer around the Flea (who was insufferable even when unconscious), knew the answer.

 

“Shinra says that it’s too far away, and the ambulance would take too long to arrive. We’re at his apartment now.” He glanced back at Izaya, knowing that he was going to have to help Shinra move him inside any second now. “The Flea’s having another seizure.” He added, hoping that this information would encourage Namie to act quickly.

 

“Fine.” Namie spat, wishing that she’d thrown her mobile out of the window after the first call.

 

Shinra grabbed the phone back off Shizuo. “I’ll send Celty to pick you up immediately, Yagiri-san.” He hung up and turned to Shizuo expectantly.

 

“What? How am I supposed to move him when he's like that?”

 

“I don’t know, Shizuo-kun, but you’re going to have to try. I can’t treat him outside when all of my equipment is inside.”

 

“Can’t Celty make a stretcher thingy with her shadows or something?”

 

Shinra nodded curtly and jumped out of the carriage to explain the plan to Celty. Celty immediately did as told, and Shizuo hastily rolled Izaya onto the makeshift stretcher. “Fucking hell, he’s going to fall off it if we’re not careful - he’s squirming everywhere!” Shizuo grabbed Izaya’s arm and yanked him sideways to stop him from falling as Shinra unlocked the door and began speeding up the stairs, Celty following to control the direction of the stretcher, and Anri trailing behind uncertainly. Once it was safely inside Shinra’s operating theatre, Celty took her leave to collect Namie, Shooter already having taken it upon himself to transform into her usual motorbike.

 

“Anri-chan, please wait in the living room.” Shinra requested, rooting through drawers as Shizuo lifted Izaya onto the operating table. He looked absolutely awful, his hands and face tinged slightly blue, and his clothes and hair in a disarray. There was blood trickling out of his mouth again, and he was still twitching uncontrollably. Shizuo could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, bottles clinking, paper rustling and Shinra mumbling under his breath, thudding as Izaya’s limbs connected with the table, wheezing gasps as he struggled for breath… It was entirely overwhelming, and Shizuo’s mind seemed to stop working for a few seconds until it all came rushing back. There was Shinra pushing him out of the way and proceeding to cut off Izaya’s jeans, and Shizuo stepping back, feeling that really, all of this wasn’t meant for his eyes.

 

Finishing what he was doing, Shinra tossed the jeans into the corner of the room, noticing that they were slightly damp as he did so. He didn’t say anything, focusing instead on stabilizing Izaya’s airway. He knew that urinary incontinence was inevitable for a series of seizures of this magnitude, and he also knew that Izaya would be mortified if he mentioned this to Shizuo. It was lucky that Izaya always wore black, and drank so little that it was only noticeable through touch. 

 

Grateful though he was for Shizuo's help, having someone who had no idea what they were doing instead of a fellow medical professional made Shinra feel uneasy. The fact that Izaya was now lying half naked on the operating table didn’t help. The last thing that Shinra wanted to do was to compromise Izaya’s dignity further, but it really couldn’t be helped. He needed to assess any injuries that required rapid treatment, and to obtain access to injection sites, and unfortunately, Izaya couldn't remain fully clothed for that. Pointing at a tray of cotton wool and antiseptic, Shinra began to direct Shizuo, hoping that he’d prove himself a worthy assistant.

 

“I need you to swab his outer thigh and then inject him with this.” He handed a syringe to Shizuo, and Shizuo took it uncertainly.

 

“Me?” He asked hesitantly, looking at the syringe with confusion.

 

“Yes, I’m doing this.” Shinra clarified, revealing that he was now cutting Izaya’s shirt off. Shizuo took hold of Izaya’s knee to still his leg and swabbed the skin cautiously, afraid that he’d do something wrong.

 

“Tap the syringe so that there’s no air bubbles first.” Shinra instructed, watching from the corner of his eye as Shizuo flicked it with his little finger.

 

"Do I need to look for a vein or anything?" 

 

"No. It's an intramuscular injection. Tssk. His ribs are broken.” Shinra pressed on Izaya's ribs delicately whilst Shizuo plunged the needle into Izaya's thigh, one eye closed as he pressed the plunger down.

 

“What was in that?” Shizuo asked, dropping the syringe into a medical waste box set up beside the table. Izaya's broken ribs were the same ribs that Shizuo had felt under his hand earlier, and for once, Shizuo prayed that it wasn’t him that had broken them.

 

“Naloxone, to combat the high level of drugs in his system. From my guess, I’d say that the overdose was on Gamma Hydroxybutyrate. It’d explain the vomiting and seizures, although they can be caused by overdoses of other drugs. Simon said that he’d been at Russia Sushi beforehand, so it’s probable that he was spiked whilst he was there. If you add it to drinks it’s nigh undetectable. Additionally, it's easily attainable and relatively cheap.”

 

After wiping the blood from Izaya's wounds and cleaning them quickly with some antiseptic, Shinra just about managed to establish intravenous access with Izaya still jerking. He quickly went back to the drawers to look for more drugs, returning with a handful of vials, syringes and a thin bluish cover, which he placed over Izaya up to his waist.

 

“You see this ampoule?” Shizuo nodded, not sure what to do or where to stand. “I need you to hold it between his cheek and his teeth, and drip it into his mouth very slowly. Can you do that for me?” Shizuo nodded again, taking the ampoule from Shinra and looking down at Izaya’s face, his own brow furrowing.

 

“What do I do about this mask thingy?” Shizuo hadn't noticed it before, and realized that Shinra must have set it up when he zoned out.

 

“You’ll have to take it off for a few minutes. It’s important that you give him the Midazolam now to try and stop the seizure.”

 

Sliding the mask off Izaya’s head, Shizuo watched as the attached bag inflated without the oxygen being breathed in. Gritting his teeth, he tore the plastic tab off the top of the ampoule and slowly slid his fingers into the Flea’s mouth. Bloody spit coated his fingers, and Shizuo was tempted to drip the contents of the ampoule as fast as possible to get it over with. As if reading his mind, Shinra reminded Shizuo to drip it slowly.

 

“He’ll choke and it won’t be absorbed if you do it too fast.” He added. Shizuo reluctantly changed the angle of the ampoule so that it dripped more slowly, wondering when the hell Namie was going to get here. He wished that Anri was the one doing this instead of him, but he guessed that Shinra had thought that he’d be more useful with his strength and how flustered Anri was. The contents of the ampoule continued to deplete until it was empty, and Shizuo retracted his fingers at lightening speed. He’d have to scrub his hands with bleach for hours to get rid of the festering feeling that lingered on his skin. Shizuo replaced the mask and stepped away, wishing that he was anywhere but here. Shinra was too busy inserting a tiny needle into Izaya’s hand to notice Shizuo’s repulsion, and Shizuo watched, mesmerized, as blood began to flow down the attached tube and into the vial.

 

“It’s a butterfly needle. They’re typically used with paediatric clients, but I always have to use it for Izaya; he has ‘difficult’ veins - like his personality, hey?” Shinra smiled sadly, keeping a hold of Izaya’s bony wrist and watching as the blood slowly filled the vial. “At least I have a few in stock. It’s easier to use this one right now as opposed to the needles that I use for your blood tests. The tube adds a little more flexibility to the process, so the needle is less likely to hurt him if it moves or goes all the way through the vein.” There was a pause for a few seconds as they both looked Izaya up and down. His movement had diminished slightly, but wasn’t at all close to completely stopping.

 

“Do you think that you can test his blood sugar whilst I do this?” Shinra enquired, moving onto a second vial. Shizuo nodded. He’d seen it in a movie before. Prick the finger, make sure the blood goes on the tab, wait for the machine to beep.

 

“I’m sorry that you have to do all of this Shizuo, I really am. I know how difficult this must be for you, considering how much you hate him. It’s a real testament to your personality, that you’d still help him despite everything.” Shizuo shrugged, squeezing Izaya’s finger harder than necessary.

 

“I’m not doing it for him.” He mumbled, fixing his eyes on the monitor to avoid looking at Shinra. He could sense Shinra smiling, and it made Shizuo want to punch him in the face for being able to see through his lies so easily.

 

“Then who are you doing it for?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel sooo mean doing this to my poor baby :( But again, I want to make this as accurate as possible, so I've had to include some unpleasant things like vomit and piss. Sorry!  
> Additionally, I'm sorry that this has taken so long for me to write. It's taken a LOT of research to produce this chapter. I've followed the NICE guidelines for treatment in this chapter, and all of the ways in which the drugs are administered are real. No, I'd never heard of dripping stuff into someone's mouth either.  
> The whole treatment part of this fic was going to be in one chapter, but it would have ended up at about 6000 words, so I've split it into two parts. Consequently, the second part should hopefully be up tomorrow (but I'm not making any promises because we're having our Bonfire Night celebrations tomorrow, yay!)
> 
> Finally, some of you might be wondering where the hell the insomnia part of this fanfic has gone. Don't worry, I'm not brushing it off and I will get back to that. I somehow developed this huge subplot along the way which has now been integrated into the insomnia plot, so it will all fit together in the end, I promise.


	7. Rain of Insults

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the plot goes on.

Shizuo ignored Shinra’s question and concentrated on the machine, not yet ready to admit to the wealth of emotions that had been consuming him all evening. It was almost laughable, how what had started as a mission to help Anri-chan had ended with Anri sat alone in Shinra's living room, and Shizuo acting as the Flea's _nurse_. Then again, it was so unfunny that Shizuo couldn't find it in himself to laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation - that was something more up Izaya’s street.

 

“You know what I think, Shizuo-kun?” Shinra persisted, removing the needle from Izaya’s hand and setting the vials aside. “I think that you’re doing this for Izaya-kun. I think that, in spite of everything you say, you’d miss him if he wasn’t a part of your life anymore.”

 

“He’s not part of my life!” Shizuo hissed. “He’s a fucking intrusion on it! He's like a virus that’s invaded it - nothing will make him go away!”

 

Shinra shrugged and took the blood glucose monitor from Shizuo, glancing at the screen and scribbling the number down with a slight frown. “If you say so.”

 

Shizuo bristled. “Yeah, I do say so. He’s ruined my career, my reputation, my relationships, and he’s never showed this much regret!” A thumb and a finger pinched together emphasised his point, unadulterated rage radiating from his burning eyes and tense posture. “I hate him, and I always will do. I don’t want him in my life at all. I’d be happy if he just fucking died!”

 

“And yet here you are, helping to keep him alive.” Shinra replied with disinterest, focusing on drawing the correct amount of dextrose solution into an IV syringe.

 

“You don’t know _anything_.” Shizuo glowered, slamming his fist on the table dangerously near to Izaya’s calf.

 

“I know more than you think.” He replied calmly, injecting the syringe contents into one of the tubes attached to Izaya’s cannula. “Have you ever stopped to think about why Orihara-kun insists on bothering you all the time?” Shinra waited for a response he knew he wasn’t going to get, the angry footsteps, firmly closed jaw and hiss of heavy breathing from Shizuo’s nose telling him all that he needed to know.

 

In. Out. In. Out. Step. Step. Step. Shizuo was counting in a desperate bid to calm himself. The longer this conversation lasted, the more he was forced to remember everything that Izaya had done to him over the years; the numerous times that he’d lost his job, his self-esteem...the tiny thread of hope that one day, he might be able to control his temper...

 

The temptation to tear the mask from Izaya’s face and let the little shit suffocate was almost unbearable the more he thought about it. The cacophony of whirring and buzzing and beeping would end, and, with Izaya dead, Shizuo’s head would never have to hurt again like it had that evening. He'd finally be able to honour his namesake, and become the peaceful person that he'd always wanted to be. He could rebuild himself without Izaya’s interference, and his life would no longer be permanently teetering on the edge of a volcanic meltdown.

 

Yet somehow, Shizuo knew that this wasn’t _really_ what he wanted; because making Izaya breathe his last breath would truly designate him as a monster. And there was no way that a person could rebuild a moral life on monstrous foundations.

 

Killing Izaya wasn’t going to rid Shizuo of the miasmic aura of fear and awe that permanently surrounded him, because, like the Black Rider, he was an urban legend. And apparently, being an urban legend is a sentence to immortal entombment in a societally constructed mold.

 

Ever since his schooldays, no - his childhood, Shizuo had known people to be nervous around him, and what was nervousness but borne from an underlying fear? Everybody was afraid of him, even his parents. They may hide it well, but Shizuo could see the flittering anxiety whenever he was around them, as tangible as their hesitant embraces and the light touches that they gave him (and was Kasuka really not scared, or was he denying it to protect his brother’s feelings?).

 

Of course, Shizuo had friends now, but he could see the fear and panic in their eyes when he lost it.

 

The anticipation.

 

Even now, as he was pacing, Shinra was on high alert, like an intelligent hare ready to flee from a ravenous fox. The hare knew that it had a small chance of winning the situation, but that chance wasn't good.

 

All along, the only person who was truly unaffected by monster-induced anxiety was Orihara Izaya (or so Shizuo thought), and realising this was like the cracked eggshell effect - a lonely, repugnant cold trickling through Shizuo's being at the knowledge that Shinra was right. That Shizuo would miss Izaya terribly if he was no longer a part of his life; because even if they were not side by side, he could always guarantee a face opposite him. A consistent face that wouldn't go away.

 

Shinra finished refilling the syringe with something else, and injected it into the cannula again before turning to face Shizuo. “He does it because he wants your attention,” he continued, pressing lightly on one of the electrodes on Izaya’s chest. “Izaya-kun isn’t stupid - he knows that the attention he’ll receive will be negative; but who knows, maybe in some strange way he thinks that he deserves that. It’s hard to know what’s going on in his mind when he makes such an effort to keep people out of it. My theory is that it’s actually one of his crazy methods of maintaining a distance between you two. In other words, he craves your attention and acknowledgement, but he’s afraid of them at the same time. He wants you to be close to him, but simultaneously strives to keep a distance from you, for fear of you getting too close.”

 

Shizuo stopped pacing, still breathing heavily and sweating slightly. “That doesn't make any sense. Why would he want me _close_ to him when he knows that I hate his guts? And I don't see how him following me all the time means he's trying to keep a distance?”

 

“There must be some logical explanation, Shizuo-kun. Like I said, I don’t know for sure, but I think that perhaps Izaya-kun’s obsession with you stems from him feeling a sort of affinity with you.”

 

Shizuo leaned heavily against the wall, closing his eyes for a few seconds before answering with quiet finality. “That doesn’t make what he's done over the years okay.” His voice shook slightly, and Shinra noted that Shizuo looked paler than usual.

 

“No, it doesn’t,” he sighed “but you need to take some responsibility too, Shizuo-kun. You decided that you didn't like him before you gave him a chance. Orihara-kun may do some terrible things, but he isn't as rotten to the core as you tell yourself he is. Take tonight, for example. From what I gather, Nakura-kun attempted to take revenge. I'm not sure if you know this, but Nakura-kun stabbed me in middle school, and Orihara-kun took the blame. He said that he'd make Nakura-kun pay, and I expect he's been doing just that ever since. Perhaps that sort of vigilante justice is warped, but the fact that Orihara-kun was so affected by me being hurt that he'd personally make this man pay speaks volumes. Maybe if you'd given him a chance, Shizuo-kun, things wouldn't be so difficult between you now, and you'd be able to see that side of him too.”

 

The prolonged pause following Shinra’s speech was broken by banging on the front door, signifying Namie’s arrival, and the two cut their conversation short. Namie burst into the theatre, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in shock despite what Shinra had told her over the phone.  
  
“Yagiri-san, thank you for coming. As I explained earlier, Orihara-kun is affected by status epilepticus, the aetiology of which I believe to be an acute drug overdose. This is his fourth seizure in approximately 45 minutes, and Orihara-kun has not regained onsciousness in between. Each seizure has lasted close to the five minute mark, which is unusual in itself. I’ve treated with Naloxone and 10mg Midazolam buccally, as well as Pabrinex and 50ml 50% dextrose to treat hypoglycaemia. His blood pressure reading shows evidence of hypotension, and I’m concerned about hypoxia given the evidence of cyanosis. If you will, an analysis of his bloods will provide more conclusive evidence. I’ve additionally treated with Lorazepam, but as there’s been no significant improvement, I propose that we move straight to anaesthesia and endotracheal intubation.”

 

Shizuo blinked, trying to decode the information as best as he could.

 

“Can you please set up a continuous IV of Propofol, Yagiri-san?” Namie took the IV bag from Shinra and briskly moved to set it up, stopping only to gently rub the back of her hand against Izaya’s cheek.

 

“Shizuo-kun, can you please check on Anri-chan and try to obtain details of what’s happened?”

 

Despite his previous urgency to get away, Shizuo found himself moving out of the room sluggishly. He felt dull and heavy, like all of this was the heaviest weight he had ever had to hold. And this time, it really was tearing him apart.

 

*******

Shiki was currently smoking his seventh cigarette of the evening, watching apathetically as Akabayashi patrolled the office, tapping his cane periodically.

 

“Are you sure that it was Amphisbaena?” He asked for the third time.

 

“Quite sure. They’re the only group that we’ve asked the Informant to research.”

 

“But there was nobody else in the building when we entered.”

 

“No.”

 

“So if they are a part of Amphisbaena, that warehouse isn’t their base.”

 

“It’s unlikely.”

 

“Can you describe what the assailants looked like once more?”

 

“There was a blonde woman, and a man with brown hair. Plain looking fellow.”

 

“Japanese?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And they knocked Orihara-kun out?”

 

“I didn’t see them physically attack him in such a way. Orihara left Russia Sushi, walked down the street and collapsed. I don’t know where the suspects came from, but the man carried Orihara down an alleyway, and the woman followed.”

 

“Was he physically injured?”

 

“Not that I was aware of. The man and woman didn’t follow Orihara out of Russia Sushi, so if he was injured it wasn’t by their hand.”

 

“I see.” Shiki stared ahead, deep in thought. “You said that Orihara-kun pulled a knife on the Black Rider, yes?”

 

“I did.”

 

“What was his motive for doing so? I believed Orihara-kun and Celty-san to be on good terms...did it look as though they were having an altercation?”

 

“No. The Informant was presumably on his way home, and he suddenly stopped and gripped the street railings. He seemed quite unsteady. Celty-san was passing by, and stopped to show Orihara a message. He must have failed to respond, because Celty-san touched his shoulder, and he immediately drew his knife on her.”

 

“That sounds a bit jumpy, don't you think? Orihara-kun must have been expecting danger.”

 

“Hmm,” Akabayashi mused, “I don't think that that’s rare though. The boy has numerous enemies, after all.”

 

“Amphisbaena clearly knew that Orihara-kun intended to investigate them, and they've stopped him in his footsteps. There must have been a leak.”

 

“Or he got cocky, underestimated them, and approached the leaders himself.”

 

Shiki smirked. “If he did, we’ll have to remind him of his place.”

 

“Yes. We can't have him ruining our operations after all.”

 

*********

 

Shizuo was sat beside Anri, a cup of tea in his hands and a cloud over his head.

 

[Can you tell us what happened?]

 

“It...It was lunchtime, and I was going to collect the register when somebody at the gate asked me for directions. I stood a little away and explained it to him, but he said that he was lost because he couldn't read the map properly without his glasses. I went closer to try and help, and then there was a pain in my leg. I don't remember anything else but waking up in a room in the factory. A man came in and said that my...that my…” Anri faltered, her face colouring “breasts would bring in lots of new customers. I think that they must be doing something really bad.”

 

[I know that that must have been a really scary and horrible experience for you, Anri-chan, but we need to know so we can figure out how to protect you.]

 

Anri nodded, grim determination forcing her to keep going. “I used Saika to see if Mikado-kun and Kida-kun were there too, but he said only Earthworm-san, Nakura-san and Orihara-san were there. I don't remember any of the other names. I asked him to take me to Orihara-san - I thought that he could tell me what was going on, but when I got there he was tied up and unconscious. The woman was there, screaming that Nakura was a... 'treacherous coward'. She was kicking Orihara-kun, and I used Saika to move her away, but I couldn't use Saika properly, and she got away in the end. I'm so sorry.” Tears welled in Anri’s eyes, and Shizuo patted her back awkwardly. “Is Orihara-san going to be okay? I don't want him to die!” Tears blurred Anri's eyes, visions of how she'd feel if it were Kida or Mikado in Izaya's place plauging her mind.

[Izaya-kun will be fine. Right now, I think that you need to tell Mikado-kun and Kida-kun that you're safe, and to rest. You should stay here for the night Anri-chan, just to be on the safe side. I wouldn't feel okay with you going home alone. Shizuo, you can stay too. It's getting late.]

 

“I'm going to go home.” Yet despite rejecting Celty's offer, Shizuo found himself glued to the edge of the sofa long after Celty and Anri had gone to set up the guest bedroom. He lowered his head to his hands, confused and miserable. He must have stayed like this for a considerable length of time, because when he awoke from the living dead Shinra and Namie were standing in the living room, looking exhausted.

 

“Orihara-kun is stable,” Shinra announced “but he's going to be under anaesthetic for 12 hours. He’ll be lethargic and disorientated when he wakes up, and he'll need to stay here for a further 24 hours, possibly longer. Yagiri-san is going home now, but Orihara-kun is going to need constant monitoring. You, me and Celty can take turns, Shizuo-kun. There isn't much to it apart from ensuring that he is receiving a correct, continuous amount of anaesthetic, and that there are no changes to his physical condition. I'd prefer to transfer him to an intensive care unit at this point, but that would erm..." Shinra coughed awkwardly, his cheeks reddening slightly "well, that would expose me. They'd want to know what had happened for him to arrive at this point, and what medications he's received. As long as you do as I say, it shouldn't compromise his recovery." 

 

"Look Shinra -"

 

"I know what you're going to say, but we really need you, Shizuo-kun. We all need rest, and it would be too much work between Celty and me. Yagiri-san has done enough already."

 

"I don't owe him anything."

 

"No - but please, Shizuo-kun - it's the humane thing to do."

 

"Don't tell me you're calling me a monster too!"

 

"I'm not!" Shinra said hurriedly, patting Shizuo on the shoulder in a show of remorse. "I just think that it'd be the right thing for you to do."

 

"I'll decide that for myself." Shizuo spat, storming to the balcony and leaving Shinra and Namie on tenterhooks.

 

The night sky was a solid layer of black, fractured only by haloes of artificial light and a dull haze of spitting rain. Shizuo's hair quickly became damp, strands of it hanging in his eyes as he lit a cigarette and lowered his head, Shinra's words repeating like those of a music-box tune.

 

"I'm not a monster, and I don't want to be like him. Why do people think we're the same?" Perhaps it was his tiredness, or maybe his hair was irritating his eyes, but Shizuo found a tear of frustration running down his face. It could be the realization that despite having secure friendships, Shizuo mistrusted their authenticity - and not because of anything that Tom or Shinra or Varona had done, but because he didn't believe himself worthy of their attention. Yet clearly, despite his constant rain of insults, Izaya did.

 

Recalling Shinra's story about Nakura-kun, Shizuo shivered slightly, irritated in the knowledge that it wasn't caused by the rain pelting his skin. Images of Izaya helpless and fragile and twitching, running and jumping and grinning,invaded his vision. Shizuo clenched his unoccupied hand into a fist and brought it down hard on the balcony railings, chips of paint flaking off around the dent that he'd created. He groaned loudly, clutching his cigarette tighter. He remembered meeting Izaya clearly. Telling him that he 'pissed him off'. Why? It was that air of superiority - his attractiveness, intelligence, and aura of knowing what he was doing, knowing exactly how to pull people's strings, that had drove Shizuo to a fit of rage. But really, was it Izaya's fault for being good looking and clever? He had been a teenage boy then, and it wasn't exactly unusual for boys of his age to recognize their assets.

_Maybe I got him wrong all along, but how was I supposed to know that when he does so much fucked up shit? It's not like he ever wanted me to understand him, and I never tried to...but Shinra said that he follows me 'cause he feels a connection with me? I wish he'd find someone else to follow..._

_Ha, who am I kidding? Shinra's right - he's just as lonely and fucked up as I am._

Shizuo laughed mirthlessly and blotted his cigarette out, raising one hand to scrub his face angrily.

_You're a fucking arsehole, Izaya, but I do kind of like chasing you. Everyone else is terrified, but you - you think you're so invincible; and look at how you're hurt tonight. You'd better not go and die on me, Flea...don't make all of our efforts worthless._

_I don't want to hate you anymore._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long to write - I had the majority done, but I've been feeling low and unmotivated recently, so I apologize if this chapter is as boring and substanceless as I think it is. I know that plot progression is going a little slowly, but I'm getting really wrapped up in trying to imagine what the characters must be feeling, and I don't want to rush over that in favour of things going faster. I really hope Shizuo isn't too out of character. I know that the last scene might seem unusal for his character, but I figured that everyone has a breaking point, and if Shizuo got wrapped up in thinking about his strength and people being scared of him/not liking him etc, as well as all the stuff that had occured earlier in the evening, he'd be sad, frustrated and fed up. He's just a massive sweetheart who needs lots of cuddles (which he'll get in due timing).


	8. Two Sides of the Same Scale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's pretend, just for now, that we’re not terrible people. Like we gave each other a chance when we first met, or something like that…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I'd advise not rushing through Shizuo's monologues. Imagine you're talking to yourself, or that you're Shizuo saying all of this to Izaya, and try to go at a natural pace (no super speeding or anything). It really doesn't work if you read it too fast, hence the shorter chapter! :) x

Her blazer, hanging nonchalantly on the door, was suddenly the gigantic man with the unfortunate haircut. A minute creak of the floorboards was somebody coming to get her - hungry for her body and thirsty for her blood. Splinters of light evolved into furious, glowing spheres: the deranged eyes of Saika’s children.

 

It had been three hours since Anri had retired to Shinra and Celty’s guest room, yet her mind refused to respond to her body’s desires, ignorantly persisting to run amok. She knew that she should be relieved, for she was safe in an apartment with the strongest man in Ikebukuro, an exceptional doctor, and a dullahan - yet unease persisted to needle her mind, pricking her with the reminder that there were others out there.

 

Earthworm may have gotten away, but once Anri had gained control using Saika, she could easily do so again. There were more, and Anri couldn’t rest until she freed those entrapped. She was in a position to assist them, yet she had never felt so utterly helpless. Her mortality had been exposed in the stark light of an abandoned warehouse, and knowing how close she was, how incredibly close to being used in whatever way her captors pleased made the blood drain from her brain.

 

The question remained as to what Orihara-san had been doing there, and Anri briefly wondered whether her captors’ interests extended to men. Being sixteen years old herself, it was somehow unfitting that they would take Orihara-san (who must be at least six years older than her) for the same purpose. There was also the fact that his legs and arms had been tied together, whilst only Anri’s hands had been tied up, and in front of her at that. Perhaps they’d expected Orihara-san to put up more resistance? But then, if they were going to use him in the same manner that they had intended for her, it didn’t make sense that they would kick him so viciously.

 

Anri had heard all sorts of terrible things about Orihara Izaya: that he’d driven numerous people to their deaths and conned them out of their money; that he’d framed Heiwajima Shizuo, and had him sent to prison for his own entertainment. There were even rumours that he’d directly killed people. She wasn’t sure how much of what she’d heard was true, but Mikado-kun and Kida-kun, especially Kida-kun, were very anxious around Orihara-san. Kida-kun would never admit to being afraid of him, but Anri knew that he was. Knowing that he had potentially done all of these terrible things, and judging from the events, it would make more sense if Earthworm and Nakura-san had some sort of revenge to accomplish against Orihara-san, and she wondered what he had done to incite their anger against him.

 

If she listened carefully, she could hear Heiwajima-san mumbling to (or rather, at) Orihara-san over the tune of the heart monitor and the hum of the ventilator. In another two hours, Celty-san would take over watching him, then Shinra-san, then Heiwajima-san again. It would be at least another ten hours before he woke up. Celty-san had said that they’d had to sedate him and put him on oxygen because the seizures wouldn’t stop, and that he’d likely be very disorientated when he woke up. What that meant to finding out exactly what had happened in the warehouse, Anri didn’t know - nor did she know if Orihara-san had any idea himself. It was all a matter of waiting, yet Anri couldn’t help but feel that they were wasting time they didn’t have to spare.

 

*******

For the first hour, Shizuo was silent. He looked at anything _but_ the Flea: the peaks and troughs of the heart rate monitor’s lines, the stiff white cotton bed sheets, the packs of needles and tubes littered across every available surface, the slow drip of fluid running into Izaya’s arm…

 

He looked everywhere but actually at the Flea, drumming his fingers blindly on the bedside railings. If he looked at what he was doing, he would see the tight wrap of bandages around Izaya’s wrists, and the purple bruise forming at the underside of his elbow where Shinra had accidentally pierced the vein, causing the area to swell and blood to leak beneath the surface of the skin. Just thinking about it was enough to make Shizuo’s eyes flit to Izaya involuntarily.

 

It was the small details that annoyed him, like realizing how hairless and translucent Izaya’s skin was in contrast to his own. He couldn’t help but roll up his sleeve and lean forwards, forearm adjacent to Izaya’s as he compared their skin tone. It was odd, feeling their skin touching and moving the uncomfortable plastic chair _closer_ to Izaya rather than further away.  Looking down, Shizuo couldn’t help but note how his own arms were covered in a soft brush of light brown hair, and the occasional freckle or thin white scar where Izaya had cut him, while the only marks on Izaya’s arms were grazes from that evening.

 

His fingers closed around Izaya’s wrist, and he flipped Izaya's hand over cautiously, afraid of waking him despite the impossibility. There was a small plaster covering where Shinra had taken blood, and his nails were unexpectedly bitten, though nowhere near as short as Shizuo’s. The stupid ring that he always wore was still there, and Shizuo twisted it around, searching for an inscription. There was none - nothing to give away whether Izaya had bought it for himself, or if it’d been a gift. The only people that Shizuo could fathom giving anything to Izaya were the twins, and even that didn’t seem likely. As far as Shizuo was aware, Mairu and Kururi only spoke to Izaya when they wanted something from him. Unlike Kasuka, the girls weren’t exactly the giving type, and Shizuo was certain that Izaya didn’t have much of a relationship with his parents…or anybody for that matter. Even Shinra hadn’t invited him to the hotpot party.

 

_It’s hard to know what’s going on in his mind when he makes such an effort to keep people out of it._

_He wants you to be close to him, but simultaneously strives to keep a distance from you, for fear of you getting too close._

 

_Orihara-kun may do some terrible things, but he isn't as rotten to the core as you tell yourself he is._

 

_Maybe if you'd given him a chance, things wouldn't be so difficult between you now._

 

Shizuo ran his fingertips over the bandages, glancing at Izaya with a frown.

 

“Are you such an asshole because you’re lonely? Is that what it is?” He paused, half expecting Izaya to open his eyes and laugh at him. “I mean, is what Shinra said true? Do you really bother me so much because you want to be close to me, or is it because I never gave you the chance to be?”

 

Silence.

 

“I still fucking hate you, you know. You’re the shittiest flea on Earth. When are you going to learn to stop pissing people off?” Shizuo squeezed Izaya’s wrist firmly, a furrow forming between his eyebrows.

 

“You annoy me so much. I’m stuck here looking after your sorry ass because you annoy everyone all the time. What did you do this time, to end up like this?” He remembered what Shinra had said about Nakura and instantly felt ashamed. After all, was it so wrong to avenge a friend?

 

“I thought you were just a selfish bastard, but I guess you were really annoyed at that guy to hold a grudge against him for this long. It’s the same with me, isn’t it? Did I really annoy you that much when we first met?”

 

_He squared up to Izaya, ready to attack. His fist flew at Izaya's face, a knife sliced a gash across his chest._

 

_"You piss me off."_

 

“‘Spose it was the other way round." He muttered defeatedly, staring at the floor. "But you know, some people aren't designed to get on. I guess we never gave that a chance though, huh?” He paused, scratching his head absentmindedly. His eyes lingered on Izaya's hair, unable to look at his face just yet. He swallowed awkwardly, focusing on Izaya's collarbones instead.

“You know, you call me a monster all the fucking time, but you’re just as bad, and I think you know it. You’ve done so much shitty stuff to people. I can't forgive you for what you've done, but I don't want to be angry at you all the time anymore. It's exhausting. I don't want to be angry anymore _full stop_ , but I can't help it. Maybe we're both gonna be stuck being shitty monsters forever, but we can at least try to change that, right? I'm getting too old for all of this bullshit.” He finally gathered the courage to look at Izaya as though making eye contact, inwardly reprimanding himself for being such an idiot when Izaya was completely dead to the world anyway.

 

He took a deep breath and slipped his fingers between Izaya’s, flinching slightly at how cold they were and how terribly awkward it felt.

 

“So let's pretend, just for now, that we’re not terrible people. Like we gave each other a chance when we first met, or something like that…”

 

He glared at their intertwined fingers, feeling his face redden. What the hell was he trying to achieve?

 

“It’s not like I want to change with you or anything by the way, before your ego gets even more inflated. It’s...it’s more like we _have_ to. I mean, I'm not gonna stop being angry if you keep naggin’ me all the time, and you’re not gonna get any less shitty if you keep pestering me. Not that you care about that anyway.”

 

He clenched his fist, trying to remind himself that he'd crush Izaya's fingers if he squeezed them any harder.

 

“I guess what I'm trying to say is that you might think that you’re dead lonely or whatever, but the world doesn't revolve around you. You can't keep punishing other people for the fact that you're shitty at making friends - you're not the only one who is! I have more 'friends' than you, but I still get lonely. I'd like to say that that's all your fault, but it isn't. I drive people away ‘cause I'm scared too. What if I hurt someone I care about, or they reject me ‘cause of my strength? You know, you have it easy, not being super strong or anything like that. I don't know what you're so worried about, but it's not doing anything to help you, is it?"

 

"Shinra told me about the sleeping tablets, by the way. I guess you've got no one to talk to about what's keeping you awake either. It's your own fucking fault, but I know how shitty it is to feel like that. Maybe that Nakura guy did you a favour, making Shinra have to knock you out for so long? Anyway, you don't have to worry about him anymore. I'm gonna get him back for what he's done to Shinra and Anri. And you.”

 

Shizuo pulled his hand away and wiped it on his jeans quickly, his palms clammy with anxiety.

 

“It isn't as satisfying seeing you like this as I thought it'd be...”

 

He trailed off, cringing at the tube stuck down Izaya's throat. His face looked thinner than the last time Shizuo had seen him, and the green hospital gown absolutely swamped him.

 

“You look like shit, and I can't fight you when you're like this.”

 

_Let's pretend, just for now, that we’re not terrible people. Like we gave each other a chance when we first met…_

 


	9. A Time to Burn, A Time to Build

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isa - ‘A time of rest before action. A period of meditation and recharging before action is continued. It may be necessary to stop, take measure and look around in order to further assess a situation, rather than to charge forward without direction. When the ice thaws it will retreat from the land and one's direction will become clear.’

He thought it was his alarm clock. Four hours sleep and his fucking alarm clock was ringing! Shinra’s shitty voice was twittering down his ear ( _annoying annoying ANNOYING),_ and _...._ too late - he’d already cracked a floorboard or two and sent his sunglasses skittering by the time he realized where he was: sprawled on his back, limbs twisted baby-deer style, on Shinra’s too-small sofa.

 

“Good morning, Shiki-no-danna - how can I be of service?” Shinra’s voice was markedly cheerless in contrast to how he usually received phone calls, and he rejected the space that Shizuo made for him to sit down in favour of pacing outside the surgical room like an anxious guard dog. He raised a hand in warning, signifying that Shizuo should be quiet, before switching the phone to loudspeaker.

 

_“You sound weary, Kishitani-sensei. A busy night, I presume?”_

 

Shinra came to a stop, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded defensively.

 

“Yes, something like that.”

 

“ _It really is regrettable that Orihara-san should cause you such trouble. I would apologize for his behaviour, but I’m unsure as to the exact nature of last night’s occurrences...would you care to enlighten me, Kishitani-sensei?”_

 

“I’m, sorry, but I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to, Shiki-no-danna.”

 

_“Myself and Akabayashi-san saw you, Heiwajima Shizuo, Celty-san and Sonohara Anri leaving the Akiyama Factory warehouse in Ikebukuro with our Informant. Orihara-san was unconscious. Now, we’ve attempted to contact him multiple times, but as we’ve received no response, our only assumption is that he is still in your care. Can you confirm this?”_

 

Shinra swallowed thickly and glanced at the closed door of the surgery room.

 

“Yes. Orihara-kun is here.”

 

_“Akabayashi-san is intrigued that Sonohara Anri was present at the scene. I’m sure you understand why it’s necessary for us to question Orihara-san as soon as possible. The_

_Awakusu-kai does not endorse the involvement of young girls in unsavoury affairs.”_

 

“Yes, that’s understandable. However, I’m afraid that Orihara-kun is still undergoing treatment. He’s going to be out of commission until the day after tomorrow at least, and as his doctor, I can’t allow his treatment to be affected adversely; nor can I disclose any other information regarding Orihara-kun’s condition due to patient confidentiality.”

 

There was a slight pause, and Shinra gripped the phone hard, closing his eyes.

 

“Sonohara Anri is safe and well, Shiki-no-danna.”

 

_“I’ll be in touch.”_

 

The call ended, and Shinra sighed in relief, visibly deflating as he buried the phone in the depths of his pocket. Shizuo stared in disbelief.

 

“Why didn’t you tell him that the Flea didn’t do anything to Anri?!”

 

“Because, I don’t know for sure that he didn’t, Shizuo-kun.”

 

“But she told us he didn’t! She said that that guy drugged her, and they wanted her for some prostitution thing! The Flea’s a fucking low bastard, but even _he’s_ not that low!”

 

“Anri-chan may say that, but Izaya is heavily involved with Nakura-kun. We know that Nakura-kun is somehow in charge of the scheme, so we can’t entirely refute Orihara-kun’s involvement. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

 

“This is getting fucking ridiculous. How long before he wakes up?” Shizuo gritted his teeth around an unlit cigarette, watching impatiently as Shinra pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch apathetically.

 

“He should be awake at around 12, so in approximately another two hours. Shizuo-kun, I know this is a lot to ask, but we all really need to try and stay calm. We need to take this time to be sensible and figure out what to do next. There’s no use getting angry about it and charging in after Nakura-kun when we don’t know what’s going on properly. I know that we’re all very tired, so it’s going to be difficult, but it’s something we all need to do, okay?”

 

Shizuo flinched, feeling guilty that he was causing Shinra additional stress after getting so much more sleep than him. Although they had taken turns to watch over Izaya, Shinra had to check on him regularly to ensure that the breathing tube wasn’t getting (in his words) ‘clogged up.’

 

The sound of the guest room door opening disturbed them, and Anri entered, looking a peculiar mixture of shy and determined.

 

“Good morning Heiwajima-san, Kishitani-sensei. Um, Kishitani-sensei, I know that you’re very busy but I needed to...say something.” Anri looked up meekly, concerned that she was disturbing their conversation.

 

Shinra sighed. There was a blurriness in his vision that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he cleaned his glasses, as well as a nagging feeling that he shouldn’t be leaving Izaya unattended.

 

“Right, why don’t we all sit down and have a cup of tea? I could certainly use one. I’ll go and get my darling to watch Orihara-kun, and then we’ll have a chat, okay?”

 

************

 

The chatroom was surprisingly empty for this time in the morning, but then, Izaya and Anri weren’t online, and Celty knew for sure that Izaya used multiple handles in the same chat.

 

_[San has joined the chat]_

San: Hellooooo~

San: Where is everybody? I’m so lonely without my best friends!! ಥ_ಥ

[ _Kyo has joined the chat]_

Kyo: Here

_[Tanako Taro has joined the chat]_

Tanaka Taro: Good morning :)

_[Pure Water 100% has joined the chat]_

_[Bakyura has joined the chat]_

Bakyura: Never fear, your knight in shining armour’s here!

_[Setton has joined the chat]_

Tanaka Taro: Has anybody heard anything about kidnappings around Ikebukuro?

Pure Water 100%: Hmm, that’s a strange question. Why do you ask that?

San: Sca~ry!! You’re not going to kidnap anyone, are you?

Tanaka Taro: Of course not! I only thought that if we knew more, we could protect ourselves better.

Pure Water 100%: Has it happened to someone you know or something?

Tanaka Taro: Yes.

Pure Water 100%: ...

Setton: She’s safe.

San: Even scarier! Does that mean you have her, Setton?

Bakyura: I heard it’s only girls getting taken…

Setton: No, San.

Bakyura: I bet Orihara Izaya is behind it.

Kyo: He would never kidnap anybody.

San: Unless it was Heiwajima Shizuo hehe :D

Bakyura: He would. You don’t know half the stuff that slimy bastard gets up to…

Setton: I have to go.

San: Ahh, Setton, you only just got here!

_[Setton has left the chat room.]_

 

Celty bent her neck forwards. She was tired, but not physically. She felt heavy, but was made of shadow. All of these things going on around her, all of this knowable unknowable, was thoroughly exhausting. Dullahans didn’t strictly need sleep, but even without her head, Celty knew that living in Ikebukuro was more exhausting than anything else she had ever experienced. A hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to see Shinra standing behind her, his face lined with worry.

 

“Are you tired, my love?” Celty simply wrapped her shadows around Shinra, dragging him closer into a silent embrace.

 

His voice was muffled in her shoulder.

 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Celty.”

 

************

 

Shinra reappeared, holding Celty’s hand tightly. Cetly’s shadows were dancing in a way that could only be described as the embarrassed sort of happy, whirling like a carousel as Shinra squeezed her hand lightly before reluctantly letting go. Celty began to make the tea, and Shinra waited until she had passed the cups around before sitting down heavily, fiddling with his glasses again.

 

“What was it that you wanted to say, Anri-chan?”

 

“It’s about last night. I’m worried. The people who took me are keeping other girls, and - I - I think we need to help them before it’s too late. I can use Saika to find Earthworm, and then she can lead us to the girls. I just think that we need to do it before it’s too late.” She concluded, her face reddening. She stared into her teacup, eyes flitting to Shinra nervously.

 

“Others, huh? Then why don’t we just ring the police?” Shizuo asked suddenly, swirling his tea around carelessly. “It’s bad and everything, but it’s not really our business, right? So why can’t the police take care of it?”

 

“Listen, I don’t want to repeat myself again.” Shinra snapped, exasperatedly. “For all we know, the yakuza could be conducting this human trafficking. We _do not_ want their wrath, and ringing the police could have the same result. It’s too dangerous. We need to wait until Orihara-kun is awake to find out a little more, then we can decide whether to call the police or tell Shiki-no-danna, okay? Now, despite me telling Shiki-no-danna that he can’t see Orihara-kun, there’s still a chance that he might come here. So, I’m going to go and check on Orihara-kun now, and if his vitals look okay, I’m going to start tapering off the anaesthetic. It’s been ten hours, so that should have given him some time to recuperate. Shizuo-kun, I’m going to need you. The drugs will still be wearing off, so he won’t be too much of a threat, but I’d like you to stand by just in case anything happens. Understood? I’ll call you in when I’m ready.”

 

**********

 

Shiki hung up the phone and tossed it onto his desk, turning his attention back to the jacket that he was preparing to iron. Akabayashi entered with two cups of coffee, placing one on the desk. Outside, the sky loomed with ominous clouds not yet ready to shed their rain.

 

“Any news on the Informant?”

 

“He’s currently ‘out of commission’. Perhaps we’ll have to do some information gathering of our own. I’d very much like to know how our top Informant failed so spectacularly in infiltrating an amateur group. It makes his reliability...questionable; although, admittedly, this is the first time that something like this has happened. The first time that he’s involved innocents in his schemes though, no. First Awakusu Akane-chan, and now Sonohara Anri? It has to stop. I warned him after Awakusu Akane-chan, but he thinks he can get away with this stuff right under my nose? He has to be punished. We must arrange a meeting with him immediately after he has been discharged from Kishitani-sensei’s.”

 

“What if he doesn’t show up?”

 

Steely eyes met Akabayashi’s.

 

“He’ll be left with no other choice.”

 

**********

 

It hurt. Before he was even capable of opening his eyes, a thousand shades of agony hit him all at once, harder than any vending machine ever could.  Every muscle in his body ached, his wrists and ankles stung, his ribs throbbed, his stomach and thighs were agonizingly tender, but, above anything, he felt as though his throat was being ripped apart.

 

Panicking, he realized that there was something in his mouth, in his _throat,_ and he immediately raised a hand to remove it, eyes flying open to be greeted by white. Just as his fingers skimmed the obtrusion, a hand closed around his wrist and tugged it away harshly.

 

“Oi, don’t touch that, Flea.” A voice growled irritably. He was having trouble piecing the words into coherent sentences. Nothing was making sense, and this terrified him even more. He pulled against the hand sluggishly, and the grip on his bandaged wrist tightened.

 

“I said leave it alone. You’ll end up hurting yourself if you do that - let Shinra sort it out.”

 

A blur of blonde, and all of his senses told him he needed to get away. He attempted to push himself away from the source of the voice, but his muscles weren’t obeying him, and he involuntarily jerked forwards instead. The hand slid down to his forearm, keeping a tight grip and pressing on where the needle lay in the crook of his elbow.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Flea, I’m not going to hurt you. Just stay still. Shinra! Shinra, he’s awake!”

 

Shinra entered the room with his forgotten equipment, and Izaya struggled weakly, using his free arm to aim a punch at Shizuo. Shizuo easily caught his hand and grasped his wrist, feeling Izaya’s heartbeat pounding beneath his fingertips. He briefly wondered whether holding Izaya’s hand would placate him, but quickly brushed the thought away, his face flushing slightly as he did so. It’d probably confuse the shit out of the already heavily confused fleabag.

 

“Hmm, I gathered that he’d be combative - especially when he heard your voice. Be nice to him, Shizuo-kun. You’re not helping him calm down by shouting at him. Izaya-kun, I’m going to take the tube out now, so you need to lie still, please.” Shinra upped Izaya’s painkillers, realizing that the dose wasn’t high enough now that Izaya was awake, and lowered the function of the ventilator. Izaya seemed to be faring fine without as much respiratory support, but he was clearly in a state of panic, preventing Shinra from proceeding.

 

Izaya continued to fight against Shizuo’s grasp, ignoring his protesting muscles and the scratch of the needle in his vein. His brain was telling him that he needed to get away, and even if he felt as though it had been fried and fried again, he was going to obey it. Shizuo breathed in deeply, ordering himself to be calm.

 

“Flea, it hurts doesn’t it - the tube in your throat? You need to stop moving around if you want Shinra to take it out.”

 

Still, Izaya paid no heed. The tube was unbearable, and he started to cough violently, his face turning a dusty shade of red.

 

 _Shinra…_ if he was at Shinra’s, something must have happened - but he didn’t remember anything, and that was enough to make the anxiety roil afresh. It was getting harder to breathe...

 

“He’s bucking and clamping down on it. If he doesn’t calm down right now I’m going to have to sedate him again.”

 

Shizuo put his hands on either side of Izaya’s face, holding his head still and forcing eye contact. “Izaya, you’re okay. Shinra’s... _we’re_ trying to help you. Stop biting the tube.” Izaya hadn’t even realized that he had been biting it. The coughs stopped, and Shizuo nodded in approval when he relaxed his jaw. “Right, now stop moving around so Shinra can take it out.” Shizuo waited a few seconds until he was lying completely still, then released his face, allowing Shinra to take over.

 

Removing the tape, Shinra upped the oxygenation to 100, telling Izaya to breathe in as he pulled it out.

“There we go, that’s better, isn’t it?” Izaya would, without a doubt, throw a knife at him if he heard Shinra talking to him like that, but as it was, he was still pretty out of it. Gulping in lungfuls of air, he barely noticed when Shinra pressed a mask over his face, checking for condensation before removing it.

 

Izaya groaned. His throat was felt as though it had been compacted with the Earth’s most arid sand, and his mouth tasted disgusting.

 

“Do you want some water, Izaya-kun?”

 

Shinra didn’t wait for an answer and handed him a glass. It was difficult to hold it with his hands shaking so much, and he could barely move to sit up, but Shizuo closed his hand over Izaya’s around the glass, steadying it, before slipping an arm under Izaya’s shoulders and tilting him forwards just enough so that he could drink it. He took a couple of sips before Shizuo took the glass and handed it back to Shinra, helping Izaya to lie back down against the pillows. Shinra began unsticking the tabs on Izaya’s chest, having turned the ECG monitor off after seeing that he was breathing normally.

 

“Okay, Izaya-kun, I’m just going to do a few quick tests so I can see that everything is working as it should before I explain what happened. Can you keep your head still and follow my finger with your eyes?”

 

Izaya complied, the whole experience dizzying. Shinra shone a torch in his eyes next, then began to ask him some basic personal questions:  _What middle school did you go to? What are your sisters called? What’s 7 x 3?_ before deeming his cognition functional.

 

“Now, can you tell me what you remember about last night?”

 

Izaya stared at him blearily, trying his best to wake his mind up enough to remember.

 

“Russia Sushi.” He croaked eventually, his memories coming up blank after last night’s otoro and tipple of whisky.

 

“Yes, Simon told us that you had dinner at Russia Sushi last night. What do you remember after that?”

 

“Blank.” He mumbled.

 

“Okay. Do you remember meeting with Nakura-kun last night?”

 

Izaya frowned. “Didn’t come…”

 

“So you went to Russia Sushi to meet with Nakura-kun, but he didn't show up?”

 

Izaya nodded slowly, an image of Nakura and a woman in a purple dress leaning over him.

 

“Why were you meeting him?” Shizuo asked, taking a seat besides Izaya’s bed. Izaya closed his eyes and slowly rolled his head towards Shizuo. Despite the painkillers, he was starting to develop a headache. Thinking hurt.

 

“He was trying to trick me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I wanted Earthworm...he rang me - said to meet him to get ‘what I want’. Wasn’t Nakura on the phone, was someone else. He got someone else involved. I told him to meet me, alone. Didn’t come.”

 

“Okay, well that’s helpful. I know this must be hard for you to think of now, Orihara-kun, and your head is probably going to feel a bit scrambled for a day or so, but it’s important that we get the facts straight so I know if I need to throw you out on the streets.” Shinra laughed genuinely, his mood monumentally brightened by the fact that his most hated friend was okay.

 

“I’m going to tell you what happened now, Orihara-kun. After you left Russia Sushi you passed out. Earthworm and Nakura-kun took you to the Akiyama Factory, and you had a seizure. You had four seizures in total without waking up in between, so you’re incredibly lucky that you’ve not acquired any neurological damage. The whisky that you drank in Russia Sushi was spiked. It was mainly GHB, but we took a blood test, and it shows that it was cut with other less chemically stable compounds, not to mention the fact that the amount in your body was at overdose level, which is probably why you reacted so badly. Namie also told me that you haven’t been sleeping or eating properly, and that you haven’t been drinking enough. Everyone has a certain threshold that can affect how susceptible a person is to a seizure. And if you’re very stressed too, that can contribute. Anyway, this is probably going over your head a bit. What else do I need to tell you?”

 

"Told you wasn't sleepin'." Izaya muttered, barely audible. Shinra and Shizuo continued as though they hadn't heard him, although Shinra felt a mild guilt prickle through him.

 

“Shiki’s pissed at you.” Shizuo added bluntly.

 

“Yes - Shiki-no-danna wants to know why Sonohara Anri was at the warehouse.”

 

His recognition was slower than usual, but Izaya’s eyes widened when he heard the words.

 

“Anri-chan was there?”

  
  
“Yes. Anri-chan says that she was abducted, the intent of which was to force her into sex slavery. Shiki-no-danna suspects that you are involved.”

 

Izaya smirked lightly and laughed a little, shifting sleepily.

 

“Shiki-san's a fool sometimes.”

 

“Well, is he wrong?” Shizuo demanded, swearing that he would kill the Flea then and there if it was true.

 

“Got sisters not much younger. Wouldn't do that." Izaya sighed shifting again. "Shiki-san asked me to investigate Amphisbaena. I told Nakura to bring me Earthworm, then I had that phone call. Never had the chance to see him. Must've told Earthworm, then they drugged me together. Their plan 's backfired now though. Nakura must have wanted revenge.” He grinned properly now. Although in his current state he was incapable of comprehending the realization in all its glory, it was amusing how _interesting_ and _unpredictable_ humans could be.

 

“Well, your plan backfired too, Orihara-kun, if you used Nakura-kun to get at Earthworm when he already had complicated ties with her. Challenging loyalties like that is so dangerous, Orihara-kun - and you intended to bring down a full trafficking group in person, singlehandedly?”

 

“ ‘m not that stupid. Just Earthworm. The others wouldn’t last without her.”

 

“Right. That still doesn’t answer why Anri-chan was there though.”

 

“Visibility. Anri-chan is usually with Kida-kun and Mikado-kun...gang leaders, so it was easy for them to spot and target her…” Izaya’s eyelids were slipping closed, his words slurring slightly. It was so hard to think when he was this exhausted. His thoughts were incredibly fragmentary, and forcing them into comprehensible sentences was like attempting to do a picture puzzle with no eyesight. He forced his eyes open again, blinking at Shizuo.

 

“Why is Shizu-chan here?” He asked, as though he had only just realized Shizuo's presence.

 

“I helped save your worthless ass.”

 

“Why would Shizu-chan do that?”

 

“Because I wanted to know if you told them to take Anri or not.”

 

“Don’t believe you.”

 

“Fine, because you’re so slutty you’d enjoy having sex all the time if they decided to keep you, and you enjoying yourself would be unfair after all the shit you’ve put me through over the years.”

 

“So Shizu-chan... would be sad that... I was  _enjoying myself..._ because he couldn’t join in? Shizu-chan really is desperate...”

 

“Fucking hell, that’s not what I meant, Flea.”

 

“Don’t believe you…” Izaya’s smile slowly faded from his lips as he fell asleep, and Shizuo turned to Shinra, only to find him with a hand clamped over his mouth, desperately trying to contain his laughter.

 

“Well, at least he seems to be back to normal, though nowhere near as eloquent as usual. You know, they say that people who’ve just woken up from anaesthetic come out with all sorts of things, like they do when they’re drunk, and you know how it is with drunk people telling the tru-”

  
“Shinra, shut the fuck up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the ending was quite lighthearted in comparison to the rest of this chapter... I don't know if it was a bit unfitting (?) but I watched loads of videos of people coming off anaesthetic having no filter, and I thought it'd be cute if Izaya said loads of sweet flirty stuff to annoy Shizuo.  
> Anyway, there was two other things I wanted to mention from re-reading this. I can't be bothered finding what chapters they were in, 'cause it's nearly 3am and I'm knackered, but I said that 1) Earthworm has grey eyes and 2) Izaya had bitten nails. I know that in the anime Earthworm had brown eyes, but I changed this because I can only imagine her with grey eyes for some reason, and it was really annoying me. I know this sounds really stupid, but I figured it wouldn't matter too much with her being a minor character canonically. The bitten nails thing: I put this in intentionally because I know that Izaya is bothered about keeping his nails nice canonically (with his lil nail file), but I imagine that with the insomnia and anxiety he is experiencing in this, he'd pick it up as a nervous habit (BUT ONLY WHEN HE'S ALONE.) He still cares about his nails and feels frustrated with himself when he sees how they've fallen from their former glory ;)  
> Anyway, please leave comments to appease my never ending anxiety that I should never have published this work and should give up writing it immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> Rating and warning tags may change. This is my first Durarara!! fanfic. Comments, kudos and constructive criticism are all highly valued.


End file.
